She Gives Me Religion
by Liz Lemon Bennett
Summary: A foul-mouth seminarian meets a just widowed bride in the brink of despair. A late in life coming of age story, Bella and Edward learn to have faith in themselves and each other. Started as a Cherry Exchange o/s, now full length.
1. The Cherry Exchange

**Welcome to  
She Gives Me Religion**

This story is the result of an entry for The Cherry Exchange, 2010 Competition. The first chapter served as the entry for the contest (with some very minor changes). While developing the characters' histories, I believed there was much more of their story to tell. Hence, I expanded the one-shot to the full work in progress you see it here.

I had difficulty classifying this story. It is a romance about hurt/comfort, but there is also humor, drama, and at times, angst. Some new readers worry about the extent and use of religious themes in this narrative. I can tell you that I do not intent to advocate for or denigrate any specific religion. At times, however, the characters do reflect on their struggles with faith.

She Gives Me Religion is rated M for foul language (yes, even from the devout) and explicit lemons.

If you need to know if a story will be HEA before you begin, I understand. You can PM me and I'll be happy to whisper in your ear.

Even if you are starting the story when we are far in, please still consider leaving a review; I'd love to meet you. You can find me on twitter LizLemonBennett.

Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and a good part of my inspiration. A certain dashing/wonky British boy owns the rest of it.

**My sincerest gratitude to my Beta, PaintedTeacherLady, without whom, I would still be hiding under the covers. Your work is invaluable.**

I hope you enjoy...

* * *

Chapter One  
The Cherry Exchange

.

.

I pass on the left… step on the gas… make the yellow light… cut through the alley…

I am weaving my Volvo through the wet city streets towards Seattle Harbor View Medical Center. The Doors', _Gloria,_ pulsates through my car, through my blood, urging me to drive faster. Just moments ago I received a text from Carlisle:

_Call me at the hospital. This is big, need help._

Our conversation plays back in my head, "A limousine carrying a wedding party crashed on the way to the reception. One casualty, the groom—DOA. I'll wait for you outside the Family Room."

_'The Family Room,_' I shake my head. Only Carlisle would say, "Family Room." Everyone refers to it as the "G.R." or Grief Room. The small room adjacent to the E.R. houses families who wait for, and often hear, tragic news. But Revered Carlisle Cullen, my mentor and friend, has too much class to call it the G.R. We've spent many days there in the past few months; he's taught me much, and today I can show him what I've learned.

Running through the parking lot, I focus through prayer, "_Lord, help me to be your instrument on this important day. Guide me to assist Carlisle as we do your work in your name. Help me to tame my temper_—SHIT!" A car passes too closely and splashes water over my jeans. "Watch it asshole!" I yell at the distancing car. Fortunately my white Oxford shirt stays dry. I need to look half-decent for today. "_Sorry, God—where was I? Oh yeah, help me to tame my temper…"_

Carlisle waits for me in the hallway, "You got here fast, a little too fast." He narrows his eyes at me knowing my tendency to speed.

"I was really close—at the library," I try to convince him.

"No time for a lecture..." I'm glad he drops it. "Today is not a practicum day, I need you to participate, not observe."

"Got it." I clap my hands together. Carlisle's confidence and the challenge before me shoots another jolt of adrenaline through my body.

"I'm working with the parents right now, the Newtons. Their son's name was Mike."

"Got it," I repeat. I'm bouncing on the balls of my feet, the college athlete in me sees this as the big game and I'm ready to win one for the team... for Carlisle... um... for God... for Team God.

Carlisle must sense my zeal, he places a steadying hand on my shoulder, "This is not going to be easy, Edward." With a deep breath, I try to calm myself, "I'm ready. I won't disappoint you."

"I know you won't." He gives me one of his fatherly smiles that both warms and breaks my heart.

We enter the room and Carlisle immediately joins a couple that I assume to be the Newtons. The game is in play. Groups of threes and fours are huddled around each other. Not needed there, it appears. I need a strategy.

I scan the room and my eyes land on a lone soul sitting in the corner. It is a woman, wrapped in a man's black overcoat, gazing out the window. She's my target. I take a step towards her, but hesitate-in a room full of sobbing, hugging, and audible praying, she sits alone in a bubble of fading sunlight. Why does she sit alone? _"Fill a need where you see one,"_ Carlisle's voice repeats in my head, so I approach again—and get a sense of déjà vu—this is uncomfortably familiar, but I don't want to dwell on that. As I stand behind her contemplating an interruption it occurs to me that she hasn't moved, not a twitch or fidget—she is a statue.

I softly shuffle my feet so that I don't startle her. "Excuse me."

She turns to look up at me, immediately the adrenaline vanishes. _Fuck, this is no game._ Her eyes are large, black and cold-so distant. She is ashen, not even appearing human, just a shell that once housed a soul. A large bruise on the right side of her face leads to a cut through her full, bottom lip. I avoid breaking her gaze, but I can see through the coat that she wears a white dress. She is the bride.

Confidence gone, I feel my legs weaken as I search for the right words, "Um… Mrs. Newton…?"

Her brows knit together before her eyes shift to the groom's mother. There is a flash of understanding, and then her eyes fix on an imaginary spot on the floor. I am likely the first person to address her as 'Mrs. Newton.' Terrific. _Lord, please grant me wisdom… because, really, I'm an idiot. _

"Bella," she says, barely audibly.

I kneel next to her. "Bella, my name is Edward Masen. I'm a seminary student. I'm here to lend a hand."

She doesn't move, her eyes still on the floor. Surely her family and friends must be here, or at least close by. She's the bride for Christ's sake, where the fuck is everybody? Maybe she asked to be left alone. Should I leave her alone? A million questions I yearn to ask, but I don't want to upset her. She shouldn't have to explain herself to me.

"Bella, can I get you anything? Can I get you some water?"

She shakes her head, eyes still on the floor.

Not sure what to say next, I scan the room to look for inspiration. Only minutes in, and this day is already infinitely more difficult than any other day I've spent here. Usually I sit quietly next to Carlisle as he consoles, counsels, cajoles.

I think about leaving Bella alone and joining Carlisle-hiding behind Carlisle really-but I can't. I feel drawn to her for some reason—protective. What would Carlisle do? Well, I know what he would do, but can I? I figure I joined the seminary for a reason, so here it goes.

"Um… Bella… would you like to… um… pray with me?" Christ, that sounds ridiculous. When Carlisle says that, it sounds so smooth, seductive even. He could get the Anti-Christ to kneel in prayer. I brace myself for her response.

Her wide eyes meet mine. "Not right now."

Oh. My offer doesn't repel her. Maybe the idea isn't so foreign to her, just not _right now._ Another tactic.

"Bella, would you like me to sit with you?"

"Yes… no... not if you don't want to."

But I do want to.

I pull up a chair and sit with her. She continues her gaze out the window. In vain, I try to peer at her, but she has pulled down her locks of dark hair patterned with fresh, small white lilies. It is a curtain between us—shutting me out. I wish I could read her mind. She is probably mourning her husband, the love of her life. The man that won her heart in some epic battle against her many admires. To look at her, even the little I've seen, I'm sure she proved quite the conquest. Not because of her classic beauty per se, but something else, something I can't yet distinguish.

Bella begins to strip the flowers from her hair, absently destroying them, twisting them between her fingers as she goes. The crushed flowers intensify her fragrance-though, it is not just floral. Her scent brings me back to early spring with my parents. Planting annuals with my mother next to the perennials—lily of the valley, hyacinths. My mother's herb garden, rosemary and mint, mixed with the smell of fresh cut grass, courtesy of my father. The blend of perfume and clean earth emanates from this woman.

She hasn't said much, likely still in shock. I assume she's been examined, hasn't she? Driven by my need for Carlisle's approval, I decide in this moment to make Bella my personal project.

"Bella?" I ask, just hoping to get a better glimpse. But she doesn't respond; rather, she continues to pull and destroy.

"Bella?" I say more forcefully and she looks up with a dazed, unfixed stare. She's paler than before. _Is that even possible?_

"Bella, is this your family here?" I wave my hand to the room.

Without looking, she shakes her head. She doesn't consider the Newtons her family yet. Since they've paid no attention to her, she's probably correct in that decision.

"Is your family in the hospital? Can I help you find them?"

Her head falls to her hands for a moment, when it lifts, Bella looks as if she's awoken from a dream.

"Alice, my friend."

"Alice? You want me to find Alice?"

Finally, a task.

"And Charlie," she says.

"Charlie? Is that a friend? Your brother?"

"My father." Her eyes have changed, no longer vacant. She is trying to communicate in the only way she is capable.

"Your _father?_ Bella, do you remember if he came in with you? Is he in the hospital?"

She shakes her head. "He stayed behind, at the accident… he's a police… Chief Swan."

_Almost a full sentence, we might be making progress after all._

"I'll see what I can find out."

As I stand to leave, Bella's hand shoots out clutching my wrist, hard, almost painfully. Her contact sends an electrical current up my arm. "Bella, what is it?" She releases the grip, her mouth open in surprise. _Did she feel it too? _

"Sorry," she murmurs. _Sorry for grabbing me?_ Trying to show her there's no need to be sorry, I reciprocate by taking her hand, "It's okay, tell me what you need."

She stands and her eyes grow wide, her breath quickens. She opens her mouth to speak, shuts it, and opens it again. As she looks down, I follow her eyes and see though the open overcoat. Her wedding dress is splattered with blood, tattered. _Dear God._ She looks back up at me through her long lashes.

"I think I understand; I'll be right back." I hold her gaze for a long moment. _Why does it bother me to leave her for even the briefest of time?_ I'm no longer sure that it's Carlisle's approval that draws me to her.

88888888

I approach a nurse in a bright pink uniform.

"Excuse me... I was wondering if you could help me? I'm assisting today in the Family Room…"

She turns to me, a wide smile spreading across her face, "Well, you must be Edward," she says with a faint Irish accent.

"Yes, I'm Edward Masen." I offer my hand and she shakes it, her hands are large and warm.

"I'm Siobhan. I know all about you from Carlisle. Thank you for helping out today." She is tall, almost as tall as I am, freckled across her nose with a quaff of black, curly hair. She is full, curvy, and stunning. I immediately have the desire to be in her embrace. She has an aura of love and God surrounding her.

"Now, what can I do for you, pet?"

88888888

A few minutes later, I return with information and my pilfering from the kitchen and the supply closet. The G.R. has nearly emptied. Carlisle sits on the couch with Mr. and Mrs. Newton and Bella remains seated in the far corner chair. Not wanting to interrupt their conversation, I place a pitcher of water and three cups on the end table next to Carlisle. He looks up and gives me a brief, knowing smile before returning his attention to the Newtons.

"Bella, Alice is doing fine. She just went into surgery. She broke some bones, but there didn't appear to be internal damage. When she is out of post-op, I'll take you to see her, if you want." _Keep it light, Edward._

Bella nods.

I pour some water into the white Styrofoam cup and drop in a straw. "I need you to drink some water for me." I hand her the cup, but the evidence of her nerves splash droplets of water onto the floor. I place my hand around hers to steady it. Her little pink tongue peaks out and touches the split on her lip. She looks bewildered.

"Do you remember cutting your lip?" I ask, hoping for some recognition. She nods unconvincingly, only increasing my concern. I position the straw away from the injured side of her mouth. She draws long sips, finishing the water all at once.

"Thirsty, aren't you?" I can't help but to smile. For a brief moment, she returns a shy smile before disappearing behind a guilty frown. So much for keeping it light.

"Hey, it's okay…" I don't know how to finish-_It's okay for widows to smile?_ Instead, I fill the cup again and watch as she finishes the water within seconds. "I think I should get a bigger cup, don't you?" I ask gently, hoping for some response. What am I doing, _flirting with her?_ No, no, I'm just trying to gain access—to help her.

"More news, Charlie called the hospital and he knows you're fine. It looks like some police officers are still at the accident scene. He knows where to find you." I hand her blue surgical scrubs, Siobhan's suggestion. "In the meantime, there is a private bathroom outside this room. You can change in there." Bella stands and takes a few steps, and then turns back to me.

"Come with me?" she asks in a small voice.

"Of course, I'll show you where it is." _Where are my manners?_

Bella glances to the Newtons, squeezes her eyes shut, leans in and whispers, "Help me…?" _Help her?_ Help her how? Help her get dressed? _Oh, Lord, please give me strength._ "I have so many buttons," she continues, embarrassed. It clearly pains her to ask for help, I take note.

"Yes, I'll help you. Let's get this coat off first." I look over to Carlisle and he raises one eyebrow at me. He quickly assesses the situation, glancing between Mrs. Newton and me, and he then nods slightly in my direction. I don't know why, but for some reason, he has selected me for this task.

I release her from the garment and her shoulders curve inward, defensively. She's so frail. _Why do I want to pick her up and carry her away from this place? _Every muscle in my body sings with the need to shield her. I expected to 'participate' today, but not this way. Not emotionally. Carlisle had warned, "_Keep your emotional boundaries in the Family Room. You are there as a spiritual guide. Their pain cannot be your pain_." Until this moment, I never understood his words. The practicum days were intellectual exercises, not emotional ones: how to listen, how to advise, how to advocate for people in need. But this, this is different. This is visceral.

I lead her into the bathroom. Though I've never been in here before, this particular space must be reserved for the G.R. families. It isn't antiseptic like other hospital bathrooms. The walls and floor are tastefully tiled in beige marble. There is a dark wood vanity and mirror with a matching corner table decorated with a vase of fresh flowers.

Turning her back towards me, she simply says, "Thank you, Father."

_Father? Oh, shit._

"Bella," I turn her by her shoulders so that I am looking down at her. I must be sure she understands me. "I'm not a Father… a priest, or minister, or pastor of any sort, _yet._ I'm just Edward Masen, seminary student. Do you understand?"

"Yes. Thank you, Edward," she says the words automatically in a dazed voice. She doesn't care. She just needs help from someone, _anyone_. She wouldn't care if I were a priest, or a nurse, or an orderly for that matter. She just needs a hand with the buttons. _Let go of your ego, Edward._

She turns towards the wall and sweeps her lush chestnut hair away from her back. Her scent penetrates every pore on my body. I make work of the tiny smooth buttons. There must be a hundred of them—spanning from her shoulders to beyond her waist.

With each unclasped pearl, another fraction of skin is revealed. Perfect skin-smooth, almost velvet. She looks so petite, tiny even. But, her smallness is not real. It is the apparition that comes with tragedy. I fear that if I breathe too hard, she will disintegrate under me. I unclasp more buttons, her hunched shoulders revealing each vertebra as I go.

She shivers, my heart swells.

Like osmosis, her pain moves into me. I want more, I'll take whatever she can give—I'll absorb it all.

I watch her back expand and collapse with each breath—her ribs reappearing and disappearing in a slow, steady rhythm. My own breath matches hers. My mouth waters.

She crosses her arms in front of her, holding up the loose bodice. The material gaps open exposing the perfect triangle of flawless skin, smooth and pale as the silk of her gown. Unconsciously, I raise my index finger to the top of her neck, hovering right above the skin. I ache to run my finger down the length of her spine. _Just one touch_. Oh, to feel the softness of Bella under my fingertip. Damn, this isn't just sympathy I feel, this is carnal desire.

I take a step back to collect myself, to shake free of these thoughts. _Dear Lord, forgive me for such lustful thoughts I have towards this injured being… this child of yours who I am here to help, in service to you. God forgive me for my aching desire to touch her, to taste her… sorry. I'll pull it together_.

"Edward?" she sounds anxious. For the first time today, I hear emotion in her voice.

"Bella, I'm sorry. I just need to grab this top." I put the v-neck over her head, pulling the shirt to her hips to preserve her modesty. She struggles, but finds the armholes as her gown slips to her waist.

"Oh, God." She's panicked.

"Bella, what is it?"

"Edward. I need out of this dress, _now_."

"Okay, Bella. Just a few more buttons and you should be able to step out," I say as I return to the slippery motherfuckers trying to release her from the last of the dress's hold.

She leans forward and slaps her palms to the tile wall, taking in gulps of air. Her entire being trembles as my shaky fingers continue. With each released button, I am sure the gown will pool at her feet, but it still cages her.

She presses her forehead against the tile and pulls at the dress, yanking it down, but it won't budge, "Edward, please… I'm going…"

I drop to my knees, grab fists full of material and jerk with all my might. Buttons fly and the dress rips free and falls to her ankles.

She pushes me aside and lunges for the commode, reaching it in time to vomit. It's only water. She sinks to her knees. I move next to her and gather her hair away from her face.

Her breathing slows. I rub her back and she moans mournfully, and then vomits again-water. The second glass, I idly think. We sit momentarily as she catches her breath, Bella on her knees, me leaning above her. I pull the tangled dress from her feet and slide it away from her.

"Throw it away."

"You sure?"

"Yesss," she hisses.

We sit on the floor for a moment. Still. Silent. Just breathing. She is only in her surgical shirt, underwear, stockings and a garter belt. I have a vision of Bella shopping with girlfriends, giggling as they pick out undergarments for her wedding—and this is what her day has become, sitting on the marble floor of a hospital bathroom, half dressed, with a complete stranger who just moments ago she thought was a priest.

I lean over to reach for the surgical bottoms. She unclips her garters and slides down her stockings tossing each one into the pile that was once her wedding gown.

"Ready?" I whisper as I gather the pant leg to help her access.

She shakes her head, groans, and pushes off me. Dry heaves, gut wrenching. Her body convulses, I keep my hands on her waist to steady her.

When she is done, she slouches back into my chest, and she stretches out her legs, sitting between mine. She is weak, emotionally and physically exhausted, and she clearly hasn't eaten today.

"Sorry. It won't happen again," she whispers. My heart sinks. I lean to the side, and place my fingers under her delicate chin and lift until her eyes meet mine.

I want to tell her to never apologize. That she's bewitched me and, for some inexplicable reason, I would move heaven and earth to meet her needs. _Tell me what you're thinking. Cry in my arms and let me help you._ My emotion is caught in my throat.

"Don't," is all I can mutter. I press my lips to her forehead then cradle her into my chest. She doesn't protest. I can feel her melt into me, her tension evaporating.

We sit like this for a long while. I think she might even be drifting off. Although I could spend the night here with her, I know it is cold and uncomfortable on this marble floor and I want to get her dressed and to a better place.

I kiss her temple and it doesn't feel like a brazen or awkward move, rather the most natural gesture I've ever made. I speak into her ear, "Let's get these gorgeous scrubs on you."

She nods, and smiles—I think.

I gather the material of first pant leg and she bends her knee and lifts her foot, leaning back on my chest for support. I slide it over her calf, her knee, to her thigh, slowly. I repeat the same process with the other pant leg until the tops of the pants are resting on her upper thighs.

"Okay, lift your bum," I whisper. She does and I slide the pants over her hips. I move my hands to the front of her pants and pull at the drawstring, not wanting to cinch it tightly. Under my fingers, I feel the stretchy lace of her garter belt. I hook my thumbs around the belt and she gives a small nod. I pull the belt over her hips, her legs, and once free, I throw it onto the heap of clothes.

She remains silent. I want to see her face, to get a clue into what she is thinking. Maybe she'll talk if I talk. I take the pair of socks out of their sealed bag.

"You know, Bella. These are some pretty incredible socks. Have you ever had hospital socks?"

She shakes her head no.

"Foot please…" I offer my hand and she lifts her foot to me.

"Well, let me tell you about hospital socks…" I begin to put the first sock on her small, smooth foot. "I got a pair of hospital socks several years ago. I didn't realize it at the time, but they turned out to be my first, true love, hospital socks were." I slide on the second sock.

"You see, they are very sanitary—as evidenced by the hermetically sealed wrapper here. But that isn't why I fell in love. They are so soft…" I hold her foot in my hand, making small circles on the ball of her foot with my thumb. "They fit perfectly," I hold her cold foot in my hands, hoping it warms. "And they have these really cool rubber grips so that you don't fall." I run my thumb over her instep feeling the grips along the way. "I can't part with them. In fact, I would wear them every day if I could."

She's still silent.

"And I know what you are wondering…"

I wait, but nothing still.

"Yes, Bella, I've tried to find replacements. Stores have cheap imitations. But _real_ hospital socks are something special. So, you might want to hang onto these, hide them if you must…because I am very tempted to steal them." I place her foot down and she peeks up at me with bright eyes and a small smile.

_Finally, something. _

"Now, I'm going to get you some things. I'll be right back."

She nods.

I stand and gather the pile of gossamer and silk and look back to Bella waiting on her approval.

She nods again, still mute.

88888888

I find Nurse Siobhan, with whom I'm becoming fast friends. She disposes of the soiled material. I explain that Bella has been sick and Siobhan hooks me up—a toiletry kit and some Pedialyte.

When I return to Bella, she is staring at herself in the mirror, pulling the remaining pins from her disheveled hair. I hand her a hair tie from over her shoulder and she begins to gather her locks in a ponytail. Our reflection disturbs me. She is a shattered angel surrounded by my pathetic cloud of confusion and desire. In this moment, I see a chasm in my life I only want to fill with Bella.

"I'll give you some privacy," I say as I slip outside and silently pray, _Dear Father in Heaven, I know it is not my place to question your motives—the lessons you place before us. But, I am so tempted on this day, more so than at any moment in my life. Why, Lord? Help me to restrain my feelings and let this woman know _your _love through me._

Bella opens the door, and we begin to walk towards the G.R., she sways slightly. "Whoa Nellie," I say guiding her by the elbow to a chair in the hallway.

"I've got a little present for you." I unscrew the lid of Pedialyte and offer her the bottle.

"_Pedialyte?_ I'm a little older than you think, Edward."

"Don't let the teddy bear on the bottle fool you. It's for big kids too," I say, still holding the bottle.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not," I say seriously. "You're dehydrated, and quite frankly, probably in shock. You need the sugar." She looks at the bottle, crosses her arms and looks back at me. "I don't want to throw up again," she says with quiet determination. I soften at her fear, but still want her to drink.

"Small sips," I say, but she isn't budging; her arms are still crossed.

"Well, we could risk throwing up, or I can get an IV set up." Her brows shoot up in surprise before she narrows her eyes at me.

"You wouldn't."

"I would." She looks as though she's trying to read me for a change.

"Try me."

Bella acquiesces, taking the bottle and her first small sip. To stifle my gloat, I bite the inside of my cheek and press my lips together, leaving me with a crooked smile. Enumeration of victories: 1-Bella is talking; 2-she showed me her cards and I can play her game, I can help her; 3-she is feisty, and I like feisty. When I look at the clock, my high evaporates and I try to gauge how much more time I will have with Bella. Oh, how I would love to see her again, but by what means:

"_Bella, this has been a really fun day and I was wondering if I could get your number so that we could, I don't know, hang out sometime. I mean, after your husband's funeral, of course. Oh, and I'm celibate, so we'll have a really good time… what you think I'm a pig for hitting on you? So, is that a no?"_

I slip the bottle cap in my pocket, needing some memento of this ephemeral day, fearing that my future self will recall these memories as mere delusions.

With the Pedialyte half gone, we head back to the G.R. where we meet Carlisle and the Newtons in the doorway. Mrs. Newton glowers at Bella.

"Where is your gown, Isabella?" Waves of choler roll off of her.

"I... I took it off."

Mrs. Newton snorts and Carlisle puts a hand on her shoulder, but shifts his eyes to me.

"_Obviously._ Where is the gown now, Isabella?"

"I… it was torn… I took it off…" Bella inhales a shaky breath, and I see her bottom lip quiver. She's about to lose it.

"Mrs. Newton," I interject positioning myself between Bella and her, "a nurse took the gown away. She disposed of it."

"_Disposed_ of it?" she asks incredulously.

What did she want? To keep a wedding gown soaked in her dead son's blood? This wasn't about a gown. The gown is just her vehicle to punish Bella. Why, I don't know—but I'm certain of it.

"Yes. I am sorry. The gown couldn't be salvaged." I sound a little sterner than I probably should.

Mrs. Newton lets out a frustrated sigh and says, "We are meeting at eleven tomorrow to go over funeral arrangements. I assume you'd like to be there Isabella, unless I am mistaken."

"I will be there, of course Mrs. Newton," she says, ruefully.

"Until tomorrow, then," she says coldly. After a beat she continues, "Funny how things worked out for you, isn't it Isabella?" Bella's face drops in shock, I place a steadying hand on her arm; Mr. Newton pulls Mrs. Newton from the room. I mouth, "What the fuck?" to Carlisle out of Bella's line of vision.

"I'll be right back," he says and follows the Newtons down the hall.

I flop on the couch and gently pull Bella's hand so she slumps down next to me.

"What was that?" I ask sounding a little angry. Bella's only response is to curl up into a fetal position.

"Anything you want to talk about?" I ask more gently as I push a stray lock of hair from her face.

"Later," she utters.

"You'll know where to find me." I decide to push a bit more, "Are you normally this talkative?"

"If you only knew," she rolls her eyes. "You're not meeting me on my best day," she laughs once then sighs at the understatement.

"Not your best?" I experiment with sarcasm, my first language.

"Well, maybe in the top ten… no… no… no, I don't think it would even place there." She speaks it too, adding only one more reason for me to be drawn to her.

"I'm glad you're talking," no sarcasm, just the truth.

"Hmmm," her blinks slow. In just seconds, she's asleep.

Carlisle enters the room and cocks his head, gesturing me to meet him in the hallway. I follow him and my rage bursts out immediately, "Carlisle, if that woman says one more thing…"

"Edward, as infuriating as she may seem, _that woman_, Mrs. Newton, just watched her son die." His comment sobers me. I consider her loss, but the anger I feel quickly begins to rise again.

"But Bella just lost her husband. Where's her support? Why isn't anyone worried about her?" I walk away for a moment, frustrated, and begin to pace.

"There's a story here, Edward. I don't have all of it, but family discord started before this accident," he says wearily.

What kind of argument would allow for this kind of punishment? My anger isn't just towards Mrs. Newton. "Carlisle, this is what I don't get… and I know I'm struggling with faith here, but if I am to be honest…" I struggle to find the words.

"And I want you to be honest, Edward," he encourages me.

"Then why would God leave her without anyone to help her through today?"

"Did he, Edward?" he asks with great sincerity. "Has God not provided?" He smiles, and I know what he is saying. Exasperated, I run my fingers through my hair.

"Edward, your enthusiasm, your emotion, even your temper-these are some of your greatest gifts. But Edward," he continues more softly "you allow these gifts to be hurdles, to get in the way of what you know to be true, to be right. Don't drown out the voice of God with your own shouting. You know why you are here today, you don't need me to tell you."

If I meet his eyes, he will see through me, so I look down.

"What is it, son? There is more you aren't telling me." He knows me well.

"I don't know." It isn't a complete lie. The ability to explain my feelings eludes me. Keeping my eyes on the floor, I continue, "I am afraid that Bella is…being used."

_Come on Carlisle-piece this together_, _don't make me say it._ "By Mrs. Newton?" he asks, still lost.

I shake my head, "I'm afraid today is a test, a big test… and I'm failing. And it isn't fair to Bella."

"Oh, Edward," Carlisle smiles, sounding relieved, "you are doing exceedingly well. Every time I look over to you, you're listening… caring for her… helping her… attending to…" his voice trails off. I meet his gaze as his expression changes.

"Edward, are you _attracted_ to Bella?" he asks slowly. I close my eyes and nod once.

"And you think _God_ is using Bella to test you?" I shrug knowing how ridiculous it sounds paraphrased back to me.

He sits down in a nearby chair and rubs his jaw in contemplation. "It's really not that surprising. I should have prepared you better."

"What? Carlisle, don't put this on yourself." Can't he just let me feel like crap?

"We've discussed at length… the connection a patient or parishioner can feel towards a caregiver. It's common to develop feelings…"

"I'm not the patient here, Carlisle…" I run my fingers through my hair, pissed off.

"No you're not the patient, nor are you patient-at all." Now he's pissed. "I'm trying to say it can work both ways. You're providing Bella with care and support the way a spouse would when his partner feels weak. So, yes, it works both ways."

Carlisle composes himself and continues, "Edward, I entered the ministry as a married man. I sometimes forget that your situation has… particular difficulties. I turn to God for comfort, yes. But I also have Esme." He looks at me sympathetically. "We should, no, we _will_ talk about this more, but right now, I think you should probably go home."

"_What?_ No. I'm staying here." I cross my arms like a child. Carlisle's eyes widen in surprise. In the decade or so since I met him, I have never defied him. He's right though, I should leave Bella here in his capable hands. My judgment is clouded and I'm likely to take advantage of her vulnerability, read her the way I want. Though I see the various disastrous outcomes to this day, I cannot move from my post. I have turned some imaginary corner and it now would take God himself to pull me away from her.

He regards me for a moment, and then his hands go up in surrender as he stands, "Alright, it was only a suggestion. I trust you will make the right decisions. Just remember Edward, 'For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace.'"

I return to my spot on the couch next to Bella, still curled up, asleep. She shimmies closer and lifts her head onto my lap. Needing to provide a few inches of distance, I place a pillow under her head. I stoke her arm and leave goose flesh in the wake, feeling how cold she is in her short sleeves. The overcoat she was wearing is now gone. Mr. Newton was wearing it, come to think if it, maybe he isn't that bad. Hunting for a blanket will disturb her, so I unbutton my shirt, wiggle out of it and lay it across her, leaving me in my white t-shirt and jeans, but giving Bella a bit more warmth.

_Thank you, Lord, for reminding me to do laundry last night so I that I am wearing a stain-free t-shirt. Also, thanks for stopping me before I put on my vintage Rolling Stones concert shirt this morning. _Exile on Main Street_ would not be a good look for today. And thank you for Carlisle, always. _

"Mmmm," Bella hums as I rub her arm through my shirt.

"Please don't leave me," she murmurs. Before I can respond, I realize she's talking in her sleep. _Is she is dreaming about her husband?_

"Bless me Father, for I have sinned…" She must be Catholic. I wait, but she says nothing more. The soft purr of her sleep returns.

I pray this dream grants her absolution.

88888888

"Bella? Bella?" I wake with a start, surprised I had fallen asleep. A large man is hovering over us. By the time I focus my eyes, Bella is out of my lap and into his arms.

"Oh, Bella, I'm sorry I took so long. I tried calling. Do you have your cell phone?" his words are urgent. His hands are clasped on her shoulders as he scans her up and down, then examines the bruise and cut on her face.

"I don't know… I think Alice had it. Oh, no Alice?" she turns towards me, alarmed.

"She's out of surgery. She's fine. She should be ready for visitors." I say as I stand.

"Who are you?" Charlie asks suspiciously.

"Edward Masen, I'm a seminary student. Chief Swan, I'm sorry to meet you under these circumstances, sir." I offer my hand and though he shakes it, he narrows his eyes at me. _Thank you, Lord for my kick-ass memory when it comes to names._

"Char-dad, Edward has stayed with me all day. He has been a Godsend." She what? _Beams?_

"Yes, well… I'm glad you weren't alone." He says squaring his shoulders before he turns his attention back to Bella, "I should have come back here, Bells, but they were short handed and you'd think these big city cops would know how to take a decent witness statement…"

"It's okay, Dad. I'm fine. Really."

_Really?_ I'm stunned to watch her, an almost convincing smile on her face, so stoic. _No need for people to worry, Bella?_

"Have you eaten? Let me get you something." She's worried about_ him?_ This exchange confirms most of my assumptions.

"No, Bells. I'm fine. How about you? You've eaten?"

"Of course," she lies.

"Edward?" He's asking me to concur with her story.

Bella turns to look at me, eyes pleading. She wants, no, _needs_ me to play along.

"Yes, Chief Swan?" I don't actually lie. Fortunately, he doesn't pursue the matter. I'm glad because, for Bella, I might lie. But I will be getting some food in her, soon.

"Bella, I think we should go see Alice, don't you?" Charlie asks.

"Yes, please." Charlie takes her hand in his, but stops. "Is that Edward's shirt," he asks, skeptically. Sometime during her sleep, she must have slipped it on.

"Oh, yes… I must have…" She begins to take off the shirt.

"You were cold…"

"Sorry, Edward…"

"No, keep it. It's still really chilly in here," I protest.

"Well, if you're cold Bella, put my coat on too." Charlie takes off his enormous down-filled, police-issued winter coat and puts it around her shoulders. She looks like she's drowning in this ridiculous coat. But I get it. Charlie would rather it was he, not I, who stayed with her today. He needs to be her father now, and I step back.

"I'll be here when you get back. That is, if you want me to stay." I will her response.

She turns towards me with a hopeful expression, "Please stay," she says then gives an apologetic wince.

"Of course." I mutter and stop myself from stroking her cheek. That would be bad. Very bad. And very wrong. I'm thrilled she wants me to stay.

While Bella and Charlie are visiting Alice, I head to the hospital cafeteria. I gather some sandwiches, fruit, and those strange individual slices of bread in cellophane wrappers—anything that will give me a chance of getting Bella to eat.

After dropping off some brownies at the nurses' station, I return to the G.R. to write out my game plan:

1-When she leaves, give phone number for 'counsel and friendship.'

2-If call, go to funeral

3-If no call, give 2 weeks before calling (coffee date?)

4-Build friendship for 1yr

5-after yr1, graduate seminary, start to woo, marry her

6-Don't compete with Mike

7-NEVER EVER call when drunk

8-If she dates others—don't blow up- 'normal' people need sex, she'll be yours in the end

I fold the paper and consider throwing it away, knowing that once I've written something out, it's committed to memory. But needing a second souvenir, I decide to slip it into my back pocket. Just then, there is a presence at the door.

"Edward." Charlie is holding a suitcase and looking displeased.

"Chief Swan." He rubs his stubble and I can tell he's deep in thought, suffering.

"I'm not one to talk about… stuff… but I could use your advice."

"Anything."

"Those two girls up there are trying to get me to head back to Forks tonight. Now, I'm no fool. Bella worries about me and might need some time alone. But she's still my little girl and I don't want to leave her in Seattle tonight." Charlie sighs deeply, he's clearly torn, "but, if I go back tonight, I can finish the police reports and get this whole thing behind us sooner."

"Won't Bella go back with you?"

"And leave Alice? No way. She's got to be back here in the morning, anyway."

_Do the right thing, Edward._

"Chief Swan, what would you need to get those police reports finished here in Seattle?"

He shrugs, "Computer, internet connection, a place to work for a few hours."

"I think I can help."

We make a few phone calls and I draw Charlie a map to the nearby public library. I hand him a sandwich and he gladly takes it. He will be able to get his work done, crash at nearby hotel for a few hours, and be within minutes of Bella if she needs him, or he needs her.

"So, am I to trust you to take Bella to her hotel tonight?" _What? Me?_ Our bond quickly dissipates, he's warning me.

"Do you _want me_ to take her?"

"No. But _she_ does," _She does? _"and I don't want to argue. Remember, they'd prefer me to be back in Forks." He's annoyed, tired, and trying to do his best. I can see Bella in Charlie.

"Yes, Charlie. You can trust me." _I have a two-year plan if you want to see it? _

88888888

With trepidation, I stand at the doorway watching Bella and Alice talk. _Should I listen?_ Shit—that's wrong. I clear my throat and both women turn toward me.

"Hi," Bella says and waves me in.

"Hi," I say cautiously as I approach, noticing Alice's mouth open in what—surprise?

"Edward, I'd like you to meet my dearest friend, Alice."

"Pleased to meet you Alice. How are you feeling?" She is braced from her rib cage to her feet.

"Other than having a broken pelvis, I feel fine," she retorts, eyes scanning me from head to toe. What is she doing, inspecting me?

I fight my defensive urge and respond sincerely, "It must be quite painful. I'm very sorry."

She softens, "Well, I really can't feel anything with my happy pump of joy-joy." She shows me her morphine pump and pushes the button before resting it by her side.

"Bella, love, would you get me some ginger ale? The nurse said I could have some when I'm ready."

"I'd be happy to get it," I jump in hoping to win her over, but it backfires. She throws Ninja stars through her eyes.

"Bella, will you do it for me. If they don't have ginger ale, you know what I like," she says sweetly.

"Sure, Alice." Bella suspiciously shifts her eyes between us.

As soon as Bella exits, Alice snaps her head back to me, "She said you were handsome, but I had no idea…"

_She said I was handsome? _This is amazing. I didn't know it was even possible that she would… Alice prattles on-I hear "rock star," and "model" ridiculous hyperbole I've heard throughout my life. _But, Bella thinks I'm handsome_? And she shares this with her best friend the day of her wedding? I'm mystified.

Alice snaps her fingers in front of my face, my daydream apparent.

"Listen, we only have a few minutes, and I have a lot to say, so pay attention." And I do.

Alice dives in, "First, if I wasn't bound by this medieval device, I would throw on some clothes and take care of her. But since I can't, I have to rely on you to do it. Understand?"

"Understand."

"Next, I take it we got rid of Charlie?"

"Yes," she doesn't need to know the details.

"Good. I love that man, but she doesn't need the burden of worrying about him. The less Charlie knows, the better. When you leave here, you will take her to the hotel…"

"Yes, I know."

"Don't interrupt. And don't leave her alone… the vision of my Bella… in the hotel… alone…" her eyes fill with tears, but I can see she's fighting them. "Edward, you can't imagine what she's gone through. I'm sure you can't see it from today, but she is the strongest, kindest, smartest woman I've ever known…" I disobey and interrupt.

"I do see it. You don't know me Alice, and I'm sure you're worried. But you have to trust me. You really don't have a choice." I hope I mustered up enough sincerity in my voice to convince her.

"Oh, Edward, you've dazzled her, and that scares the shit out of me." Her expression turns from threatening to beseeching.

"Have faith."

"You're not going into the priesthood, are you?" she cringes.

"No, I'm Methodist."

"Thank you, Lord," she breathes as she looks at the ceiling. I have to smile. I would want Alice as my best friend—Bella deserves as much. And, _I've dazzled Bella_. She's a small planet that sucks me in with her gravitational pull—and she thinks I've dazzled her—_unfathomable._

Bella practically runs back in the room with a bottle of ginger ale, looking wary.

88888888

I start the engine and look over to Bella in the passenger seat. I should have warmed the car first. My iPod continues The Doors', _Gloria_, and I reach for the power switch, certain she'd prefer something more soothing.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. I like it."

"You like The Doors?" I say, surprised.

"Charlie always played classic rock when I was growing up. He likes the Jimi Hendrix version of _Gloria_, but I prefer this one. That reminds me, do you mind if I check my voice mail?"

"Of course not." I turn the volume all the way down and Bella turns it back up a bit.

"We can't miss the best part," she says.

She listens to her messages and I'm glad she gives me a few details. "Mailbox full—no surprise. Oh, poor Charlie, most of these are from him." Every few seconds, she presses a button then stops to listen. Bella must be listening to a long message. She looks up at me and laughs softly, "That was Alice, she says hello again." She continues, "Last one… Charlie…Wow."

"Everything alright?"

"_You fed Charlie? _That's usually my job,_"_ Her gaze is penetrating.

"No big deal, I gave him a sandwich. Some people like to eat now and again." She refused any food at the hospital. _I will force-feed you by the end of the night if I have to. _

"He wanted me to thank you. Charlie _never_ thanked…" She stops, thinking about Mike? "You're quite good at winning friends and influencing people." She mutters wistfully while looking out the window. I want to see her face, to read her.

"Is it later yet?"

"No, not yet."

88888888

I slip the key card into the Executive Suite of The Four Seasons. I open the door wide to allow Bella's entrance. Even from the doorway, we can see the floor to ceiling view of the Sound, a fire already burning in the fireplace, Champagne and roses on the vestibule credenza—this would be a lovely place to spend a wedding night.

I turn to Bella, who must have the same thought. She sways, her eyelids flutter, and-_Oh, Fuck_—I catch her before she goes down. I carry her over the threshold and make my way with her through the apartment-sized suite to the bedroom.

I lay her down on the bed.

"Bella? Bella—can you hear me?"

She blinks rapidly before staring back up at me, looking dazed. She tries to sit up, but I press her shoulders back down. "Not yet, give it a few minutes." I stroke her cheek, she feels cold. _Please Lord, help me care for her._

An idea springs to mind, "Don't move, I'll be right back." I bring in the luggage from the hallway and take a bottle of Pedialyte from my bag.

I return to her, "Here, a little more of the magic elixir." I open the bottle and help her take some small sips, eventually, the color returns to her cheeks.

"Edward, I need to take a shower."

"I don't think that's a good idea, you need to rest. You can take one in the morning."

"Smell this." She holds her shirt to me and I bend down to smell, trying not to see down the gapping v-neck. The smell of Bella is obscured by chemical and disinfectant. It must be helping to keep my desires at bay.

"I smell like hospital."

"You smell fine, Bella. You're faint-you could fall. I don't want you in the shower."

"Edward, I smell like death." Her eyes drop to her lap and I understand her need to wash away this day.

"I think a bath would be a safer choice. Let's keep the bathroom door open. I need to hear if you're having trouble."

When the deep marble tub finally fills with water, I call for Bella. She shuffles in. "If you need anything..."

"I'll call," she teases.

"Are you mocking me?"

"No…," she sounds apologetic, "I'm just not used to…_ this_," she gestures to the space between us. Not understanding, I stay silent. "You know… being taken care of." Her husband must have tried. _Didn't he? _But she's resistant to help.

"Ask and you shall receive, Bella," I say, then exit, leaving the door half open.

There's a knock at the door—room service is here. As soon as the food is set up, Bella calls, "Edward, I forgot my clothes." How could I forget—Freudian, I'm sure.

"I'm on it." I lift the suitcase to the luggage cart, unzip and open it to find lace and satin—nothing but lingerie in the first few layers. I hunt to the bottom and locate some cotton shorts and camisole. These look too flimsy to wear out, so I assume they are pajamas.

I knock on the door, "Come in." I enter with my back to the tub.

"Are these okay?" I hold them up for her to see. "Yes, those are my favorites." I place them on the chair next to the doorway.

"And I found this." I hold up what I gathered to be a toiletry kit.

"Oh, thank you, thank you," she sounds so relieved. I place it on the chair next to the pajamas.

"Can you bring the bag to me?" I begin to slowly walk backwards and stop when I hear her laugh.

"You're going to fall. You can turn around, I'm covered." I hope she is in bubbles up to her ears. I can't bear to see her naked. I turn around—no bubbles, shit. I walk forward keeping my eyes on the window behind her, but I can still see. She is sunk deep in the water, her arms crossed over her chest, shielding her breasts in her hands. _Why must I have such good peripheral vision?_

"I'll just put it right here," I say glancing at the ceiling.

"That's good. I'll be out in a minute."

Bella emerges from the bathroom in her pajamas and a towel wrapped around her head. She scans the room, her eyes landing on the table I set.

"You… brought me... cereal?" I watch as her wide eyes fill with tears.

"I thought you might like…I can get you something else." _Please eat something, Bella_.

"You like cereal?" she asks hopeful, her lower lip shaking, tears spilling over.

"I… I love cereal. But… if you don't…"

Bella shakes her head.

"You brought me cereal." She isn't asking anymore.

"I brought you cereal," I breathe.

For a brief moment, we lock eyes, completely frozen. No schooling or life experience can prepare me for what happens next. I watch as Bella's blood drains from her face, she clutches her middle and folds over, her towel falls to the floor.

"Bella!" In the second it takes for me to reach her, she takes a belly full of air and lets out a soul-shattering sob. This sound should make the Earth stop rotation. Angels should swoop down and lift her immediately to heaven for the pain that escapes her lips. It is singularly that saddest sound I could never imagine.

With my arms around her, I guide her to the edge of the bed and kneel in front of her, trying to see her face. Another breath of air, and another long, soulful keen. I thought I was ready for this—but I'm not. Shit, what would Carlisle do? He should be here. I know this needs to happen, but the sight of her devastation floors me. This is bullshit. I have no right being in this hotel room right now. I want to run. Call Carlisle. Kiss her. _Fuck!_ That's it—it's my dick got me in this situation. _Lord, help me_. She's struggling, her breathing harsh and quick.

I grab her upper arms, and try to pull her up to see her face.

"Breathe, Bella." I command.

"It's... my... fault," she speaks between breaths.

"Bella, what's your fault?" I'm still trying to get a look at her from below, but she twists away. I change positions, but with each shift or move I make, she counters.

"Bella, _please_…"

"No. Don't look at me." The tears surge down her cheeks, her lips, her chin, her neck. I try to wipe them, but she slaps my hand away. Fuck, I panic. Lord, what should I do?_ Be still, Edward._ And I am-not saying or moving. When I do, Bella stops struggling. The tears continue to flow, she is trembling under my hands, but she is breathing.

"Bella, what is your fault?"

"The accident… Mike's death… all if it…"

"Bella, no one is responsible. There was a car that hydroplaned…"I try to explain gently, but she is shaking her head, violently.

"Nooooo. You don't understand…" she grabs fistful of my shirt and meets my gaze, "It was me, it was all me," her eyes are so fierce, her pleas so passionate, it frightens me.

"Bella…" I begin to protest.

_Don't talk, Edward, listen. _

"…tell me. Tell me why it's your fault." I exhale, not fully convinced of this tactic.

Her head crashes into my chest, hard, and she resumes sobbing. I slide my hands up her arms, around her shoulders, holding one hand to the nape of her neck and splaying the other across her back. Her weeping seems endless. After a few minutes, she turns her head into the crook of my neck allowing me to press my body against hers and to rock her gently.

"Let it go, Bella. I'm here," are the only words I have to offer in comfort. Eventually, her body goes limp in my arms. I easily slide her off the bed and onto the floor against the wall with me. She curls in my lap, and I continue to rock her. I don't know how long it has been since she started crying. An hour?

She peers at me with swollen, crimson eyes. I can't read her complex expression—forlorn? Grateful? Maybe doing nothing is the best thing I can do for her. I take the dry shirttail of my damp shirt and wipe away the tears from her face, but they continue to silently flow. I place a kiss on her forehead, and she curls back into me. She is a ball of soft flesh, expanding and deflating in my arms with each breath.

After a few more minutes, I hear the purr of her sleep. I scoop her up and lift her into bed, pull back the covers, tuck her in, and turn off the light. Quickly, I take the cereal to the kitchenette, put the milk in the fridge, and then head to the couch. I consider my list, as I drift off to sleep.

I sense someone walking past me; I must be dreaming. I turn over—an unfamiliar couch. I hear crunching, slurping, then wake to look around, remembering where I am. Crunching? Bella must be awake.

I enter the bedroom to find Bella sitting cross-legged on the bed drinking milk from her cereal bowl. She doesn't notice me at first. I'm glad, silently watching her tilt back her head, her neck moving with each swallow of milk. She finishes and sees me watching her.

"Oh, my goodness. My crunching woke you, I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't be. This is… this is a good sound." We exchange shy smiles, "Can I join you?"

"What, I haven't scared you off yet?"

"Nope. Not yet." I pour myself a bowl of corn flakes, "Ready for dessert?" I ask holding out my hand. She gives me her empty bowl and I fill it with Captain Crunch.

"Who knew Captain Crunch would be on the room service menu?" she asks.

"I know. This is some great hotel."

"Yep."

Okay. This is a little awkward. I was just getting used to not talking. Now that we're talking, what do I say?

She pats a space in front of her on the bed, and I join her sitting crossed legged, using a pillow as a tabletop.

"So," she says after a moment, "I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror a few minutes ago…and…I…well, I think you should know, I don't always look like this. And I'd like to fix myself up, but I don't really know where to begin." She's embarrassed? With all we've been through today? I take in the vision of Bella: The bruise on her cheek is spreading over half her face, a mix of green and purple. Her eyes are swollen to mere slits, half of her bottom lip—puffy around the cut. And her hair is a nest of dry tangles, still damp curls and frizz. She is perfect.

"I wasn't fishing for a compliment. You don't have to say anything," she says. I've been silent too long. _Don't fuck this up. _Do I tell her she's beautiful? No that's weird, true, but weird.

"Well, for the day you've had, I think you look fine." She drops her head._ Wrong Answer._

"You're right. It could be worse. Not much worse, but, you know," she mutters.

"How does your belly feel?" _Change the subject, the only way out_.

"Much, much better. Thank you." She snorts, and rolls her eyes, "'Thank you.' Now, if that's not the understatement of the year, I don't know what is. I'm not sure how to thank you for everything you've done for me today, well… and tonight. I would not have gotten through this mess without you." She's saying this matter-of-factly, like she's wrapping this up. I don't like this. I'm not done. _She's not done_.

"Bella, aren't there some things you want to talk about?"

"No, not really," she says coolly and digs back into her cereal.

"Isn't it _'later_' yet?"

"No. I think I've worked it all out. I'm good." God, how could we take so many steps back in such a short amount of time? I'm going to end this. She's shutting me out, like she's done with everyone else. Well, I'm not everyone else. I take our bowls and put them on the bedside table. Bella gives me a confused, anxious look.

"Give me your hands," I order. She puts them in mine and meets my gaze.

"Isabella, yes I know your full name. Isabella, we have been through too much today to start playing games, and this ends now. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she says quietly and looks down.

"Look at me." I say as I squeeze her hands—her head snaps up.

"Without filtering, tell me everything that is running through your mind."

"I'm embarrassed."

"Why?"

"Where to start…there's so much…"

"Try."

"I threw up on you."

"Not on, in front of."

"I cried on you, a lot."

"And?"

"And, there was mucus and stuff."

"And?"

"And I ruined your shirt."

"It's The Gap. They're cheap and wash well. Next."

"I fell asleep on you like eight times."

"Twice."

"I was a complete freak at the hospital around the Newtons."

"Why?"

"I'm not ready for that."

"Next."

"Charlie was weird to you."

"Not really."

"Lord knows what Alice said to you."

"Nothing I didn't already know, or wanted to know."

She pauses, blinking up to me.

"Next."

"I almost fainted in the hallway."

"You did faint. Next."

"You've seen me half naked."

"I closed my eyes."

"Really?"

"No. Next."

"I've been so weak in front of you."

"And."

"I despise weakness, in myself."

"Why?"

"I don't know…It's who I am…it's easier for me to be strong."

"Next."

"I look a fright right now."

"You're exquisite."

"What?"

"You're gorgeous, stunning. I wasn't being truthful before, I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"I didn't want to scare you."

"Why?"

"Because you just lost your husband and I shouldn't be feeling the way I… I shouldn't be looking at you like that."

"Oh." Her brows knit together, then she relaxes. "Edward, I'm ready to talk about the accident."

Bella takes a deep breath. Her words flow as if she had been preparing this speech all day:

"Last week, Mike told me that he had been having an affair for a long time. I should have known—he had been distant for months. He told me he was _planning_ on ending the affair, and he 'really wanted to make our wedding…our marriage work.' But I was having none of it. I tried calling off the wedding. His parents, who were paying for most of it, were furious—who knows what he told them, certainly not the truth. They threatened to give me the bill…like I ever wanted some big Seattle wedding, a Forks wedding wasn't good enough for Mike. Everything started to crumble. I told him to marry her instead. '_But you're the marrying type._'" Bella snorts, shaking her head. _At least he got one thing right._

"I told Alice what had happened, and she tried to help… I couldn't tell Charlie. Each day that passed made it more complicated. I gritted my teeth and decided to go through with it. I'm a coward, Edward. Maybe we could make it work, if not, a divorce after a year or two. _Sacrilege."_ The word is acrimonious on her tongue.

"I sat my ass in church and prayed every day for something, anything to happen, to make this go away. _Damn it. I will not cry." _She blinks to the ceiling for a moment, gathering herself. "I prayed to make the wedding go away, Mike go away, me go away… all this anguish to go away."

"But it didn't. Yesterday, I stood in that church in front friends and family and asked God to bless this unholy union. It was the worst form of blasphemy. And ultimately, my prayers were answered."

I swallow, hard, stifling my growing rage at her gross mistreatment_. This isn't about anger, Edward. It's not about you, or Mike Newton, this is about Bella—about compassion. _

"Bella, do you believe God is punishing you?"

"Yes… No… I did yesterday. I don't know anymore, Edward."

"Do you want to know what I believe?"

"Please."

"First, there are too many good people suffering in this world, too many bad things happening to good people, to believe God is laying down punishments. And second," I cup her face in my hand, "you don't have to figure this all out in one night." She leans into my hand before taking it in hers and kissing my fingertips.

She gives a subtle nod and looks down at our hands, my thumbs brushing over her knuckles. "Maybe it's Karma."

"Changing your religion?" I smile.

"I don't know… adding to it?" she shrugs.

I tilt her chin up, "So, Bella, what did you do in a past life to bring you to this moment?"

"_This_ moment…? Either something very, very bad or very, very good." She whispers in a husky voice, looking toothsome. I feel myself swell against my jeans. Fuck, my carnal desire is back. I run my thumb over her bottom lip. She wets her lip, and the tip of my thumb, in the process. I stifle a moan, release her chin, and close my eyes. _Strength, please give me strength. Stick to the list Masen, tomorrow, stage one—the phone number. _

When I open my eyes, she's biting her bottom lip, her eyes wide.

With amazing fortitude I tell her, "It's late, if we go to sleep now, we should still have five or six hours of sleep."

"Right… good plan." There is a mix of gratitude and disappointment in her voice.

I begin to climb off the bed, keeping my pillow to hide my erection.

"What? Where are you going?"

"Nowhere, just back to the couch."

"Oh, right."

I plop on the couch and watch through the doorway as Bella scoots herself deeper into her covers. I sit for a few moments waiting to hear the tell tale purr of her sleep, but it doesn't come.

"Are you still awake?" She asks in a loud stage whisper.

"Yes," I suppress a laugh.

"Edward?"

"Yes?" I mirror her loud whisper. She's utterly adorable.

"Um… could you, _would_ you… sleep next to me tonight?" And I'm hard again. This could be very dangerous. _Lord, help me to find_… Oh, fuck it_._ I climb into the bed behind her and place a pillow between us.

She wiggles her ass a little, "What's that?"

"The rock of Gibraltar, Bella." She giggles, a glorious sound. "Go to sleep, it's late."

"Can't. Your turn, tell me a story."

_A story?_ I scan my mind for the appropriate bible story, one that will shed light, understanding… give comfort. Abraham and Isaac? No, no, that even freaks me out sometimes…

"Tell me the story of Edward Masen."

"Edward Masen?"

"Mmm-hmm."

_Where do I start?_ I'll keep it light but honest, some funny story about my baseball days.

"Who is Edward Masen?" She asks sincerely, and the candor she's shared propels me to do the same.

"Let's see, Edward Masen, son of Elizabeth and Edward, Sr. tries to be a good person."

"He _is _a good person."

"Well, he fails sometimes…. a lot of times. He's had his share of sadness, but no more so than the beautiful creature lying beside him." Bella reaches back and finds my hand, knitting her fingers through mine.

"What did he do with his sadness?"

"He had good friends, like Carlisle, and his faith in God to help him. He made it through the roughest part."

"Then what happened?"

"He wanted to help others the way he was helped, so he earned his degree in Psychology, then entered the seminary."

"How's that working out for him? Seminary, I mean."

"Some good days, some bad."

"Tell me about the best day."

"On the best day, he met a real life angel, walking around the mortals. And she let him in." I kiss her temple.

"Mmmm," she murmurs, understanding my intent, then continues, "And the worst?"

I say nothing.

She brings my hand to her mouth; she kisses my palm then places it on her stomach. One hand tugs at her other hand and I hear a clink. I glance over her shoulder and notice she's left her wedding band on the bedside table. Bella strokes my forearm—my hair stands on end, the current of her touch.

"Has Edward Masen ever been in love?" her voice is hesitant.

"Yes."

"What's her name?"

_Isabella Swan._ I nuzzle my nose in her hair trying to closer to her scent—peppermint, rosemary, and purity.

"Edward, what's her name?"

"I told you already… Hospital Socks."

She giggles and playfully pushes back, I shift away unsure if my jeans and this pillow can hide what is going on in my pants.

"Enough story time for now, Bella. Go to sleep."

She turns her head, looking up at me. "Kiss me good-night, Edward." She isn't asking, she's quietly commanding. I oblige. I bend down and kiss her, chastely, on the corner of her mouth.

She turns on her side, now completely facing me, only the pillow between us. My mouth is dry. My heart is beating through the pillow. This shouldn't happen until after year one.

"Kiss me again, Edward," she whispers.

"I…your lip…"

"It doesn't hurt." She's so calm, so confident, and I'm so… so unworthy. She reaches her hand to the nape of my neck and gently massages the back of my head. Saliva pools in my mouth. I lean in and kiss her. She's so soft and warm. I take her upper lip in mine, flavors of milk and Captain Crunch, and Bella. My brain shuts down and my libido takes over. Her mouth opens wider and I enter her. Her tongue, soft, meets mine and follows into my mouth. She sucks on my bottom lip, I hum in appreciation.

I move my hand to her neck and rub my thumb over her jaw. I let my hand fall to her shoulder, and then caress her collarbone. She moans in my mouth. Bella pulls the pillow out from between us and throws it behind her without breaking out kiss, but I pull back.

"Bella, this is dangerous." I'm out of breath and fully turned on.

"Yes, I know." She continues to kiss me, pressing her body against me. What is she doing? Fuck, what am I doing? What did Carlisle say? She's been cared for…that's all. She's emotionally distraught…this isn't about me. Maybe this is about Mike, getting back at him. Maybe she needs another catharsis, a physical release. This is wrong. With the might of God behind me, I draw back.

"Bella," I pull her hands from my neck and hold them in mine, like in prayer, between us. "Listen to me. You have been through so much, you're confused, probably still in shock, and your emotions…" I am trying to convince myself as much as her.

"Stop," she puts her fingertips over my mouth, and speaks with conviction, "It's not what you think. I have never been clearer about anything than I am right now. We have a special connection, Edward. Don't pretend for one second you don't feel it too."

And this is it. I could pretend it isn't here, allow her to go to sleep with a wounded ego, but save her virtue. She might even thank me in the morning. I could be her friend, keep my plan. Be the man I so desperately want to be. Or I could…

"Stop over thinking this, Edward."

"Bella… I've never had… I've never been with… I don't know if I can…"

"Oh, Edward. We can make love without having sex," she says not knowing I've thought about that very scenario a thousand times today.

"I know… I just, sort of want both," I smile, a little embarrassed.

She kisses me softly, "I know, me too." She kisses me again, then pulls back.

"But we really shouldn't, right?" she asks, amused.

"Right," I say rather sternly and plant small kisses along her jaw. She pushes me away.

"Just so you know, I've never either."

_What? _

"You mean, he…?"

She nods, "We waited—college sweethearts for three years, and in the meanwhile, he was fucking Lauren Mallory," she rolls her eyes, as if it is something she is trying to downplay, then her mask slips and, for just a moment, I can see her pain.

The anger builds again. _This isn't about Mike. _"Bella, I know I can't… but if I could… I would do anything to take your pain away."

She pulls me down on top of her and we continue to kiss, heated, without hesitation.

I shift my left leg between hers, keeping most of my weight from her. Her hips undulate and I begin to pump my knee giving her the friction she wants.

"Oh, Edward."

I continue to pump as she grinds along my thigh. She shifts and moves her thigh against my cock, but it's too much, I'm tingling, I'm afraid I'll come. I move away and slide my hand between her legs.

"Is this okay?"

"Yes, please, keep going."

Her thighs are damp. I want this to go slowly, but I can't. I slide my fingers under the cotton of her shorts. She isn't wearing underwear; of course, I didn't give her any-Freud. I caress the apex of her thighs; she's soaked-FUCK.

Silky, soft, hot…I find her hard clitoris surrounded by swollen flesh. I stroke her once-she quivers and moans. I gently ghost over it again-not sure how soft is too soft.

"Please, more." She pulls off her camisoles. Her small perfect breasts, I want to touch them. There's so much more I want to do to her-but I can't—I need to concentrate, concentrate on not coming. The pain caused by the pressure of my jeans is just enough to hold me back. _Damn it_- I'm no good at multitasking right now. I skim my thumb over once more and slide my finger inside of her.

She grunts, and her walls clasp around me. She's so tight with just one finger-I panic.

"I'm sorry… did I hurt you?"

"No, no, no... I just... just surprised... Don't stop."

I feel her relax. I make small circles and feel her stretch with my movement. She reaches between my legs and palms my painfully hard cock.

"Bella, don't... I'm going to come."

"Take off your pants," she pants. I look at her, motionless.

"But, I…"

She reaches for my fly, "Unless you have another pair of jeans for tomorrow, you better get these off," she says, her voice urgent and raspy. My girl is smart, even in the heat of things.

She unzips my pants, reaches in and pulls me free, wrapping her hand around me.

I pump once in her hand, the feeling is staggering, but I try not to do it again. I search to find that little ridge inside of her, curling my fingers just as _Maxim_ explained. I can't find it, but I must be doing something right, she stiffens.

Pressing my thumb to her clitoris, I curl my finger once more, and "Aaagh" she cries and comes on my hand. Her wetness pours down my fingers into my palm as her body pulses and clenches around me. Oh, what she could do to my aching cock. That thought, the sight… the feel… I pump just once more into her small, tentative hand and I come, long and hard across her exposed stomach and chest. I fall back as we catch our breath.

I can't believe I just came on her, desecrated her. My eyes can't yet focus, and I don't have my sea legs, but I begin to slink out of bed, she jolts up, "Edward, what are you… where are you…"

"I just wanted to get a towel… I'm so sorry," I say as I try to shove myself back in my pants. Fuck, this is shameful.

She holds out her hand, I consider it, and then give her my hand. "Don't ruin the moment," she says yanking me back into bed with her.

"Don't worry about this," she says and she rubs my come over her belly. _Fuck, yeah_. It is the most erotic thing I have ever witnessed. Too bad she doesn't realize how bad this would be if I let it go without proper clean up-or does she? Has she done that before? _Has he let her?_ I won't let anger ruin this moment. And I'm not about to invalidate her gesture, so I crash my body against hers, kissing her deeply, as she deserves. "Bella, you are magnificent," I say into her herb-scented hair, running small kisses behind her ear and down her neck.

"Mmmm…. I never knew I could… it could…" She looks bashful, in spite of what she just did. Because of what she did? Is she at a loss for words? Even with my inexperience? She must not know better, or maybe I've done something right. I'll pick the latter.

"Hold that thought," I kiss her on the side of her mouth, on her sternum, and on her knee as I make my way off the bed. "I promise to be right back."

88888888

I wipe the last of myself off of her and kiss sacredly along the warm, wet trail left by the towel. Bella smiles the kind of smile that could stop my heart. I make my way back to her lips, pressing the full length of my body onto hers.

"Now, where were we?" I roll onto my back, bringing her on top of me. She kisses me down my neck and slows as she reaches my chest. She stays there and nuzzles me. Her cloud of hair, brushing against my chin.

"Oh, yes, I think you were trying to tell me something." Bella giggles and I feel the vibrations throughout my chest.

"You're… um…_ magnificent_?" she says, and giggles even harder.

"You stole my answer. I'll have to turn you in for cheating, Miss Swan." Her breath hitches, and I don't know if I've made the right choice. I wait, and then finally hear a soft sigh. Her body relaxes—she is still a Swan.

"Thank you for that."

I stroke her hair and kiss the top of her head. We lie together like this, silent for a long time. I wait for her purr, but it doesn't come.

"Edward?"

"Yes, sweetheart."

"Sweetheart?" she peaks up with me, her brows raised in surprised.

"Is that okay, do you like _sweetheart_?"

She cocks her head to the side, likes she's trying it out in her head. "It's okay."

"Darling? Honey?" I notice that I'm using the words my father reserved for my mom. "Baby?"

"Mmmm. I like baby." She nuzzles my chest again planting small kisses through my t-shirt, around my nipple. My cock twitches.

"You were going to ask me something?" I say massaging my fingers in her hair, since I can't actually _run _my fingers through her wild tresses I've come to adore.

"Do you want to do that again… but… with the sex part?" I do, I really do. But I don't say so.

"Because I want to." She looks up at me again, and there is such a sweet innocence in her eyes.

_Speak the truth in your heart, Edward._ "Well, since I am going to marry you someday, it might be alright." I brace myself for her response.

Bella's smile widens across her face and she says, "Yeah, I know. I just didn't know if you knew it yet." She scoots up and gives me a small kiss before finding a home in the crook of my neck.

"You knew?"

"The cereal. You brought me cereal."

"I brought you cereal." I say, almost to myself, trying to figure out her code. "Bella, what is it about you and cereal?"

She shrugs, "I love cereal. I don't know… cereal is… cereal is home."

I lift her chin and kiss her, hoping she can feel my passion, my reverence for her. It would take a supernatural being to resist Bella at this moment, and I am a mere human.

"Edward, I don't want to make you do anything…"

"I know, and I don't want you to anything you… we can call this a loophole…"

"You mean we're going to pretend that this is okay?"

"That's the plan."

"Good plan, I'm in."

We quickly undress each other fumbling around before she takes her position on top of me again. We press our sticky chests against each other, kissing hungrily. God, I want to be inside of her. My cock is hard and I'm so glad I've already come once. I hope it means I have a chance of lasting more than twelve seconds.

"Ready, baby?"

"Edward… I don't know… I don't think I can be on top." Fuck, she's scared.

"It's okay, you don't have to… I just read that it will hurt less for you… for your first time." She's wildly shaking her head no. "Hey, it's okay. You want me on top?" I roll her onto her back. She's so small-I don't want to crush her. Fuck, now I'm scared.

"Is this better?" I ask, hoping I sound reassuring.

"Yes, I want to feel you. I want to feel your weight on top of me."

I reach between her legs to find her wetness, cooling and sticky from before mixed with warm and thin. Someday soon, I will lick her dry. I can't help myself; I put my fingers in my mouth-salty, tangy honey. Liquid Bella.

"Damn, that's hot-just when I thought I couldn't get any wetter…" She pulls me down and kisses me, moaning into my mouth. I'm on fire from my navel to my knees. I rub the head of my cock over her clitoris, because I read it's supposed to feel good for both of us-which it does-and, well, just because I want to.

"Yes, Edward, I'm ready, please…" her voice is thick with lust.

I position myself at her entrance, taking the brunt of my weight on my forearms. I look down at her wide, dark eyes, and I…I…freeze. WHAT THE FUCK AM I DOING? I can't do this. But I can't stop this. I am about to ruin the best shot of love, real romantic love I have ever had. Tomorrow she will wake and resent me. She will come to her senses and realize that I have taken advantage of her, stripped her of her Catholicism-guided, pre-marital abstinence—that's a life choice, damn it. And what about me? I aim to live a life guided by the clear rules laid before me, and help others to do the same, yet I am willfully ignoring a basic tenant, because of what? Lustful desires? How many times have I have I turned down this… but this isn't lust. I've felt lust and turned my to back it…this is something different. This is sacred. I quiet my mind, searching for the voice to stop me, to confirm that this is wrong—but it doesn't come. I've either ejected the voice of God, or he approves. I chose the latter. Fuck, I'm in denial...

"Edward, Edward, come back to me," she says, her hands on my face, looking up at me. I momentarily clear my head and look back into her eyes. "Don't be afraid. We belong together."

With this, I push myself into her. My God, she's so tight. It's only my head, but I feel her clamp around me. _Dear Lord, I know I shouldn't be praying to you right now, but please tell me that I am in the right place. _

Her eyes squeeze shut.

"Bella?"

"Okay, I'm good, you're good… I'm having a little trouble." Her whole body is tense below me.

"Are you freaking out?" I ask.

"Yep, a little." Her breath is frenzied. "Are you in?"

"A little." I don't sound too calm myself, "Baby, let's breathe for a minute." I shift my weight to one forearm and use the other to stoke her side, over her ribcage, and up to her breast. How could I have waited so long before touching this breast? I cup the small mound in my hand, marveling at the suppleness. I kiss the swell and work my way down to her small nipple, taking it in my mouth, sucking and licking, feeling it harden.

"Beautiful," I murmur against her breast and I feel her turn to jelly beneath me. I look at her, and wait for approval. She gives me a small nod. I shift and slowly sink into her.

"Ohhh," we say in unison. Mine from pleasure, her from pain—I think. I want, no need to move in her, to plunge into, but I struggle to hold still.

"Are you okay, Bella?" I feel her stretch around me.

"Yes… keep going," she breathes. I pull back and slowly rock forward again, eliciting more moans from each of us. I do it again, beginning a slow rhythm.

"Edward, tell me what it feels like. What_ I_ feel like." _Don't mess this up, Masen- think of something romantic._

"Like…_ugh_…rain in April…_ugh_… like…puppies…"

"Like puppies and rain?" Shit, she's able to talk and I'm not, not a good sign.

"No, no… hot, wet, so fucking tight… like my cock is getting it's first hug…_ ugh_…and it's been, really, neglected…_augh_."

"I'm really tight?" her brows shoot up. She sounds excited, but not as breathy as I want.

"You're a freakin' vice, Bella." She grips my cock from the inside. "Ugh."

"Did you feel that?"

"Yessss" I can barely talk. I'm at home plate for the University of Washington's bid for the playoffs…

"Thank you, Edward. A girl who waits…_ ooh_… as long as I've had needs…_ oh_…_ augh_… _ungh_…" FINALLY.

I pull nearly all the way out of her, "How do I feel?" and thrust, hard.

"_Augh_," she shouts

"_Oh, shit_. Did that hurt?"

"Yeah… no… you're hitting something… do it again…" she gasps.

I thrust again, feeling my head hit—what, the top of her? Her hymen?

"How do I feel, Bella?" my voice raspy, now I need to know.

"_Augh_…You're huge, you know that, right?" The bases are loaded and I have one strike. I hear the announcer…

"So it seems… _mmm_," I rock in her, shallow again.

"It feels like, _augh_… you know when you put a tampon in and you forgot you still have one in…_ oh, shit that's good_… and you hit your cervix…. you know…"

"No, I have no idea…"

"Like that…" And thoughts of baseball are no longer needed.

"Is it your hymen…?" _Shift small Masen; hold out._

"No… I've read most virgins my age don't have it anymore…_ Ah_…"

"Here's what I've read…" I lift to my hands, pull up, and grind my pelvis bone into her."

"Jeez… Cheese and Crackers," she yells. "Ah, fuck me. It's hard not… Lord's name… in vain…_ augh_… sex."

"New loophole." I say, and I'm done talking. I grind into her again and again. She moans, I grunt. I combine thrusts and grinds—every cell, alive with sensation. My pelvis tightens, tunnel vision, I can't hold on….

"Please come," I try to say, and she does, loudly-twitching and clamping around me. My hips take over and thrust wildly into her. I feel my come rise though me and release into her as she spasms around me, "My God." I grunt, before falling into her and pulling her to our sides.

I hold her in my arms, still inside her. Bella continues to sporadically twitch and shudder for several more minutes. I'll have to look this up.

I hear a quiet sigh, and she peeks up at me.

"Is it always like that?"

"I hope so."

"Me too." She rests her head back down.

"Now what?"

"Now what right now, or now what big picture?"

"Both."

"Now, sleep. Tomorrow, we have…an interesting meeting to attend. Now what, big picture? Don't know. I have faith we will figure that out."

"Mmmm. You said _we_." She's almost asleep.

"I said _we_… Bella?"

"Mmm-humm?"

"You feel like cereal?"

Bella plants a small kiss on my chest—then I hear her sleeping purr.

.

.

.

* * *

**A/N**: **Thank you for reading!  
**

**If you are interested, find youtube links to Morrison's, "She Gives Me Religion" and The Doors,' "Gloria" on my profile page.**

**Also, I have weekly teasers set up as a different story. You can sign up for story alerts. **

**Let me know what you think.**


	2. St Francis of Assisi

**My gratitude to the organizers, judges, and reviewers of the Cherry Exchange Contest.**

**Thank you to my friend Moonriver for working her magic on this chapter.**

**My well wishes to ThePaintedTeacherLady.**

**Also, Puget Sound is a beautiful body of water in Seattle. If you'd like to see pics of the view from the hotel, please visit my profile.**

* * *

Gives Me Religion

Chapter 2

St. Francis of Assisi

"Morning Baby," I say with sexy confidence as I brush the hair away from her now bruise-free cheek.

"Hey handsome," Bella says in a husky morning voice as she stretches like a lioness.

"How do you feel?"

"Mmm," a devilish grin emerges, "a little sore, but in all the right places." _Hmmm, she's inviting for round two already._ Bella continues, "I'll be thinking about you all day long."

I offer my hand, "Come, I'm going to _feed_ you breakfast," and with the way I say _feed_, I'm sure she understands this will be no normal breakfast.

"You're going to _feed_ me?" Taking my hand, she sits up and then slowly runs her tongue over her top then bottom lip, "but I'm already so very, very satisfied. Do you have something good for me, baby?"

"Yeah baby, I've got eggs for you-_scrambled_." I'm not sure how, but I assume scrambled eggs is a double entrendre for a sexual act.

"That's exactly how I like my eggs—_scrambled_." Good, she goes with it.

"And I have waffles with warm syrup."

"I like syrup-I like it sticky and sweet." Bella snarls each 's' sound-so hot.

"How's this for an amuse bouche?" I say knowing that 'amuse-bouche' sounds a hell of a lot sexier than 'tiny appetizer.' I lean in and brush my lips past hers once, twice. I kiss her gently once, twice and take her bottom lip in my mouth and suck; she gasps giving me access and I enter her mouth—soft tongue entwining with tongue. I angle my head allowing for a deeper, more aggressive kiss. Her hands in my hair pulling roughly, I moan before I pull back and kiss her gently again, once, twice. I look down and the cut in her bottom lip is gone. The healing power of my kiss.

_Fuck, it is never going to happen that way._ Seated on a club chair in the corner of the bedroom, I watch Bella sleep and contemplate the many possible scenarios that await me. I've been through the one where we profess our mutual love, hop a plane to Vegas, and marry. There's one where we decide to move into this hotel and never leave this room—ever.

All of the good ones end with the same kiss. It's the bad ones that I'm afraid to entertain; those feel much more real. Those scenes include Bella turning away when I go to kiss her; asking me not to touch her. She says things like, "Last night was amazing, and I couldn't thank you more…but…" The scenes I fear the most, however, include tears of anger and regret—those I can't stomach. What if she's so disgusted she kicks me out? Can she take a cab to the hospital? Does she even have her wallet with her?

I walk to the bathroom and catch my reflection. This is not good—I can see the rough night we've had in my face—stubble, bags under my eyes, wild hair and I smell of sweat, Bella, and sex. It's a smell I like, but probably wouldn't be appreciated by others. _Hi Charlie, what do you mean I smell funny? Funny how? _A shower won't be enough; I can't put those clothes back on me. It's dawn and water of Puget Sound looks so peaceful through this picture window; I could easily climb back into bed, but time is slipping away and I need a plan.

I slip on my jeans, grab my phone and key card and walk into the hallway to dial. A groggy voice greets me, "Hello…"

"Jasper, it's me."

"Edward?" Suddenly he's alert. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"I'm fine, nothing's wrong—I'm sorry to wake you so early…"

"You don't sound fine. Where are you?"

"I'm at The Four Seasons, the one on Union by the water. Listen, I need a big favor."

"You got it. What's up?"

"I need some things from my apartment…"

Jasper will be at the hotel in about an hour. He made me promise 'details,' which I'll gladly give. I welcome time with Jasper, I always sought his advice in college and even more so now years later.

I search for Bella's purse, but all I can find is the small satin bag Alice gave her at the hospital—it must be all she has. I know it's wrong to look in a woman's purse, but I convince myself that it's for a good cause. I find lip-gloss, a rosary, a prayer card, and a five-dollar bill. _Bella, what can you buy with five dollars? Really, why bother? _ Taking a fifty from my wallet, I pray, _Dear Lord, please guide Bella and me through this morning—please help me deliver her to Charlie._ _Grant me the wisdom to take back this money if she doesn't need it—paying Bella for last night might be a deal breaker. _

I slip the bill into her purse and, curiosity getting the better of me, I pull out her small laminated prayer card and smile. Of course, St. Francis of Assisi…it's so…so…Bella. It is also my favorite prayer.

I remember seeing it the first time my parents and I dined at the Cullen's house. After dinner I wandered into the living room to investigate the bookshelves that caught my eye when we first arrived. There were so many interesting books-large, hard covers with glossy dust jackets, old, faded volumes of the classics, even early edition children's books, _The Little Prince_ comes to mind. Art, philosophy, religion—an endless, eclectic collection; and in the corner of one shelf, a framed copy of St. Francis of Assisi's prayer.

"_See anything you like, Edward?" Carlisle startled me._

"_I'm sorry Reverend Cullen, it was rude to come in here without permission." _

"_No need to apologize Edward," he sounded jovial, "people put books on display for a reason, they want others to look. It's a way of saying, 'this is me, these are my interests, come, get to know me better.'" He talked to me like I was a real person, not some kid starting high school._

"_Not all of our favorites are displayed out here though," he said._

"_No?"_

"_No. I have a passion for mysteries and science fiction…and …" he leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "she likes historical romance, our secret." _

"_I won't tell." I said beaming, feeling like I've been brought into the fold._

"_So, does any of this stuff interest you?" he said waving his towards the shelves. _

"_Yes, sir. A lot of it."_

"_Good. Consider this your personal library, borrow anything you want, any time, Edward." I could barely contain my smile as my eyes drifted to the framed prayer; I read it silently to myself._

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,  
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;  
where there is injury, pardon;  
where there is doubt, faith;  
where there is despair, hope;  
where there is darkness, light;  
where there is sadness, joy;

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;  
to be understood as to understand;  
to be loved as to love.

For it is in giving that we receive;  
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;  
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.

"_That's St. Francis of Assis's prayer. What do you think about it?" Fear tied a knot in my stomach, afraid he'd ask me about God and religion…I went to church with my parents, but I really didn't want to talk about it. _

"_I don't know." I shrugged, feeling my face turn pink and warm._

"_Hmm…really? For a second there, it looked like you might have an opinion. Sorry, maybe I was wrong." He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Well, take as much time as you'd like, but don't forget Esme's serving dessert soon," he turned to leave._

"_I do," I managed to say._

"_You do…?"_

"_I do have an opinion about it. I think…I think it sounds great, but impossible." _

"_Impossible?" he probed._

"_Yes. No one can be that good, that selfless all the time—so as much as it sounds great, it's impossible."_

"_So why even try?"_

"_Sort of…I mean…I guess. He's asking God for help, right?"_

"_Right."_

"_But he's bound to fail a lot of the time and feel rotten about it and maybe feel rotten about God for not helping him. So, why even try if you know your going to fail?" He didn't respond. Instead, he let me hear my own words hang in the air. "I mean…I know you should try things even if you think you might fail. But when you really care about those things, it hurts even more when you fail at them."_

"_True. You're very perceptive, Edward. Are there things that you keep working at although you might not be as good as you want yet?" _

_The answer came easily, "Yeah, baseball. Coach calls me 'string bean' he says I'll get better once I fill out a little more."_

"_But you don't care about baseball?"_

"_I care a lot. I want to do well—you know, for the team, and my parents, the fans."_

"_I see. Really, it's not that different than St. Francis. I think he's asking for help because the possible rewards are so great. You can't hit every ball, but you try every time at bat, right? No one bats a thousand, Edward."_

And so it began.

Ironic, the deeper I get into my theological studies, the less time I make for morning prayer. Not today. I move to the living room and look out into the melting pink morning sky—today I will meditate on St. Francis.

~oOo~

"Stop looking at me like that."

"I'm sorry Edward. I'm just a little surprised…and a little worried about you." Jasper says, his ice blue eyes inspecting me. "You have this weird web of energy surrounding you. I'd call it 'frantic lust guilt.'"

"_Still?_ Shit, you should have seen me an hour ago." I rub my forehead as the server tops off our coffee. "Don't you have some sort of neutral therapist face you can put on?"

"I reserve that look for my clients, you are my friend."

"Give me some friendly advice then, what should I do?"

"Okay, she's upstairs sleeping right now?"

"Yes."

"Did you leave a note in case…"

"Yes."

"Don't get defensive, I'm just checking. Like Carlisle said, emotions are right under the surface, you were both in need last night…just be prepared for anything when she wakes up, take your cue from her. And don't be all Mr. Pervert, be Mr. Nice Guy."

"Since when have I been Mr. Pervert?"

"Edward, you just dined on forbidden fruit, my friend. It's hard to push yourself away from that table." He gives me a smile that says 'welcome to the club,' then slowly shakes his head. "If the women of U-Dub could see you now. The Masen Harem would be devastated."

"There's a bullshit phrase I haven't heard in a while," I scoff.

"Not bullshit. Women majored in taking your virginity, some men too. Shall I name them? Let's see…Tanya, Kate—roommates, not a good move my friend—Jessica Stanley…"

"Please do not bring up Jessica Stanley."

"Every man needs a stalker at least once in his life." I shake my head, not believing the turn in this conversation.

Jasper shrugs, "Don't mind me, I'm just jealous."

"I recall you doing just fine."

"Ah yes, the southern charm lured them in," he says emphasizing his drawl, "but I never had your virgin mystique—couldn't control my animal instincts. But, I was a mere boy then…"

"And now…?"

"You know I'm done sowing my wild oats; in fact, I think I sowed enough for both of us.

"How is Maria?"

"Maria is no more."

"What? Since when?"

"It's been a couple of weeks."

"Why didn't you call?"

"No need, it was a long time coming, and I know you've been busy at Jesus camp." I guess that's what we're calling it these days; Jasper could never get over my decision to join the ministry.

"Jasper, we used to talk everyday, what happened?"

"We grew up, that's what happened."

"Let's stop being grown ups—we're both single now, I'm virginity free, let's go out—let's meet some women. We can be wingmen."

Jasper raises a brow, "Wingmen?"

"Yeah, did I use is in the wrong context?" What the hell do I know about wingmen?

"No, right context—wrong year, but right context." Jasper stares at me for a few moments, his grin fading, his face becoming serious.

"Already preparing yourself for rejection, Edward?"

"Something like that." I run my hands through my hair, my apprehension increasing, "Jasper, I don't want to screw this up."

"I know my friend." And for a moment Jasper's jibes are gone, his calm tone soothes me, his empathy is my security.

"Can I kiss her?"

"Can you kiss her? Are you asking me permission," he asks, amused.

"I don't want to be Mr. Pervert, but if I kiss her, I'll be able to read her."

"I see. Then yes, if she gives you a cue, you have my permission to kiss her," he smirks.

~oOo~

_Lord, make me an instrument of your peace._

"Bella…Bella, time to wake up," I say as I move a lock of hair from her face and inspect the now deep purple center of her bruised cheek. Eyes flutter open, wince at the too bright room, then close as if harsh memories of the last twenty-four hours crash over her.

"I let you sleep as long as I could, but we have to get up if we want a chance of visiting Alice before the meeting."

"Alice," she says in a rough morning voice and frowns; she says nothing else, but she's awake, still processing I suppose.

Bella sighs before opening her eyes, then gives a quizzical look as her eyes focus on me, "Did you leave, where did you go? You're all dressed up," she inhales deeply, "and you smell good…you showered."

"No, I didn't leave, a friend came by and brought me a few things for today."

"Oh."

"How do you feel this morning?"

Bella makes a small move to get up, squeezes her eyes shut in pain and says through gritted teeth, "I'm a little sore." Actually hearing her say that is not as sexy as I thought it would be; I've been too rough and she's in pain. She moves to fully sit up, "Ow."

"Bella, I'm sorry."

She looks at me, confused, "Why are you sorry…oh…_oh_, no not that kind of sore," she gently smiles, "well yes a little of that…but I meant my whole body."

"Of course, it's from the accident…I should have gotten you some muscle relaxers yesterday…and an ice pack."

Her fingertips brush across her face, "It's worse isn't it?"

"Well, it looks a little more…painful today."

"It _is_ more painful today. I don't understand. I walked away from the accident fine, they examined me…"

"Car accidents can cause all sort of muscle trauma that don't show until the next day. If I had thought about that yesterday—I guess I wasn't thinking, Bella I'm…"

"For the love of all that is good, you must stop apologizing…you're my freakin' knight in shining armor Edward, now run me that bath before I kick you to the curb." _I don't know which scenario this falls under, are we good, are we bad, are we really bad? She called me her knight—that's good…I'll __take that as my cue._

I lean down to kiss her, but she pulls back. Not good.

"No kiss?"

"Haven't brushed."

"Don't care," and I lean in again, but she presses her lips and offers her cheek. Really not good—but at least she isn't crying.

"Stay here, I'll be right back." I draw her a bath and pour in a jar of L'Occitane bath salts I found on the wide ledge of the tall sunk-in marble tub.

When I return, Bella is standing with her arms and legs in a wide stance. Too sore to bend a limb, straighten up, or walk properly, she is pivoting her whole body inch by inch towards the bathroom. Since she is only a few feet from the bed, I wonder how long ago she started.

"This isn't as bad as it looks, you know," Bella looks up at me through her lashes, because she can't lift her head, "I had a yoga instructor once who would get really offended if someone skipped a few classes in a row. When we returned, she'd punish us—punishment yoga—picking the most challenging positions for the offending student…"

"How very Zen of her…" She's still inching.

"I know, right…anyway, this is just like the morning after one of those classes," she says as she continues to pivot.

I can't take it to see her like this, and if I'm to get her to the doctor before seeing Alice, we need to hurry. I step closer, "Bella, I'm going to pick you up and carry you in, ready…"

She flexes her hand and pivots her body in warning, "No, no, no…no sudden movements. Please, Edward, don't touch me." Not good.

"Okay…well, then…" I run into the living room, scan the breakfast table, and pick up the most logical choice, return to Bella and bring it into her view, "we'll have breakfast on the way to the bathroom."

"What's that?'

"It's a waffle."

"I know it's a waffle, but where…"

"I ordered breakfast, it's in the other room." I'm walking backwards, leading Bella into the bathroom. From the outside, it must look like I am trying to lure some waffle-obsessed zombie scarecrow.

"Oh…you didn't have to…I thought I smelled something. Is there cereal?"

"No. I was hoping to get you to eat something a little more substantial." _Is a waffle really more substantial than cereal?_ I ordered scrambled eggs, but that's much more difficult to feed someone while walking, so again I offer the easiest, "Waffle?"

"Um…sure." She opens her mouth and I place a corner on her tongue like communion. She bites, I pull, and we stretch the dough between us, leaving her with a little more than a mouthful to manage, but she chews and swallows it down. "Wow, that's a good waffle," she says as we near the bathroom and I rip off a smaller piece.

"Open," I say as bringing to her mouth, I place the piece on Bella's offered tongue; she brings the piece back into her mouth, and chews slowly, her eyes closed, "mmmm." It's mesmerizing to watch, but I can't tell if this is turning her on, or if it's only me who finds this arousing.

I bring another piece to her mouth; she opens wide, but doesn't offer her tongue; I move the waffle into her mouth and place it on her tongue letting one finger rest a little long in her mouth. Bella sucks my finger in with the waffle and swirls her tongue once, closing her eyes, and then looks back up with an inexplicable expression—like she's asking me something. I slowly pull out my finger. She licks the powdered sugar from her lips when it occurs to me that I forgot the syrup. _Why did I forget the syrup? _ Option one: Get Bella a bath and take her to the hospital; Option two: Cover Bella with syrup, give her a massage, and then lick her clean. Same basic outcome—she'll feel better either way. No, she needs to go to the meeting. _Oh, fuck the meeting, let the Newtons plan the damn funeral_. _Don't be Mr. Pervert Edward. _I take a calming breath. Bath time.

We continue to walk until the back of my thighs reach the tub and I'm reminded of it's height; there's one steep step, but even that will prove a challenge to Bella. I move behind her, "Can you put your arms up?"

"You mean they aren't up yet?" she laughs then suddenly stops as she pivots towards the mirror. "_Holy Heck! _Did you look at my face? It's like I've got a purple eyeball growing out of my cheek."

"It must hurt."

"It hurts to look at it. _Gah,_ I just can't look at myself anymore…no more mirrors."

"Come on…clothes off, hot bath." Very carefully, I free her arms from the camisole straps, and it drops to her waist; then I hook my thumbs under the material and drag the shirt and shorts to the floor in one swift motion. For the first time, I see Bella fully nude. My waffle induced arousal increases, but I have to stop myself; I close my eyes and remember she's God's child in need right now, not an object of sexual desire.

"If I keep acting like an invalid, you'll never see me as sexy." I laugh softly and shake my head, _not a chance Isabella Swan—you have no idea._

"Climb or carry?" I ask unbuttoning my shirt and placing it on a bathroom side chair.

"Carry," she says reluctantly, knowing neither option will be comfortable.

"Bella, when I say, I want you to take a big breath and then on three, I need you to exhale, understand?" This is going to hurt like hell, but I don't see another way; she nods, bracing herself.

"Here we go…big breath…one…two…" I get into position to sweep her legs out from under her, "…three," and I swing her up and over into the bath as quickly and gently as I can manage. She sinks in while letting out a long hiss, her eyes squeezed shut in pain; after a moment her face relaxes.

"Okay?" She responds with a nod.

"Just soak for a minute, I'll be back."

From the bedroom phone, I call the concierge and ask them to deliver a bottle of Advil. As I pour Bella glasses of orange juice and water, inspiration hits—I know how we can save time. I grab my cell phone, get Carlisle's voicemail, and leave a message "Hi Carlisle, it's Edward. If you get to the hospital before us, can you find the attending? Bella needs some muscle relaxers. When we got up this morning, she could barely get out of bed and now we're running a little…" _FUCK ME! I did NOT tell just tell Carlisle I spent the night with Bella! Lie! No don't lie! Push a button, erase…how do you erase? Where's the lady's voice? The voice that tells you that you can erase? Doesn't Carlisle have that lady? Fuck, say something! _"…um…so, we'll be there soon…she's sore because of the car accident…um…not because we…um…bye." I hit every number on my keypad hoping to hear the lady's voice, but nothing. I walk to the wall and repeatedly thump my head wishing that the last forty-five seconds did not occur.

"Edward, what is that..._is that you_?"

"Yes," I moan. I take the glasses into the bathroom and put them on the ledge of the tub, mumbling, "Here, you need to hydrate, flush everything out, it will help your muscles." I pull up a chair up and rest my head on my folded arms next to Bella's head.

"Edward, what happened?" Sympathy oozes from her voice, as she runs her fingers through my hair.

I bury my head into my forearms, "I think I just inadvertently told Carlisle we spent the night together."

"Oh."

I close my eyes and wait for her pithy response that will put this into perspective, but silence grows between us. I continue, "I know, I wasn't thinking…I screwed this up." Again, there is only silence; I look up to find Bella's face is turned away from me…and she's crying.

"Bella…Bella…it's okay…he won't say anything," a stifled sob escapes her, "Bella, please don't cry, it's not a big deal." _What did I say? Why are you crying Bella? _

"I'm…s-s-s-so sorry, Ed-ward."

"What? Why are you sorry, Bella…?"

"You..d-d-didn't want to…bu-but…I made you," _Made me what?_ _No!_ _She thinks _I _regretted last night? _"I'm a dir-..dirty…whore." What? If her expression wasn't so sad, the words would be comical.

Wiping her tears with my thumb, I whisper quickly into her ear, "Isabella Swan, if I lived a hundred years, I wouldn't regret making love to you last night."

"Re-…really?

"Really." My hands glide from her face, to her neck, to her shoulders and back again, gently caressing away her pain.

"I don't un…understand. I did the tongue thingy around your finger and you didn't say anything. I thought it was sexy…but then I felt dirty…" she sniffles.

It wasn't my imagination. I chuckle once and say, "It was sexy as hell, Bella…but I wasn't completely sure you were going there. I told you, I'm an idiot. And I'm still afraid you're going to come to your senses and think I'm a predator…I need a flashing neon sign."

"Oh, Edward if sucking your finger isn't a neon sign, I don't know what is," she sighs deeply and continues, "we're doomed…or I'm going to have to turn into a really, really dirty whore." _I choose…Edward, do not even think about it_. She smiles sadly, and I kiss her temple.

"I'll take that under advisement." I move to the side of the tub and begin my massage up and down each arm in turn. Of all the scenarios I considered, not once did I envision this.

"Are you laughing at me?" Her tears are gone, but she's still sniffling.

"No, Bella…I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing at myself, the irony. You didn't kiss me this morning, it had me worried." She says nothing, but I can tell she's considering my concern.

Finally she whispers, "I hadn't brushed."

"Does it really bother you that much?"

She shakes her head and fixes her eyes out the window looking onto the Sound. Lost in daydream—lost in memory. After a long while, she quietly says, "It bothers some people."

_Dead or alive, Mike Newton is a douche. _The voice in my head returns_-Not Mike, Edward, focus on Bella. _Letting go of her arm, I move to stand above her head; her curious, sad eyes meet mine. Taking her face in my hands, I tilt her head back and lean down giving her an upside down version of the kiss I've been wanting since dawn's first light. Timid at first as we adjust to this position, eventually her mouth grants me access and tops of tongues meet, deepening the kiss as we go. She takes my hands and slides them down her slick body, and rests them on her pert breasts. I break our kiss and watch as she threads her fingers between mine and begins to massage herself with my hands-teaching me how she needs to be touched. _Is she sore? Does she need her breasts massaged? _She lets out a soft moan_. _No, no, this is a neon sign.

I press my cheek against hers and whisper, "You are no invalid, and you will always be sexy. I've been working very hard not to ravish you all morning."

"Why?" Another unexpected response, isn't it obvious?

"Because I didn't think it was what you needed right now…and if I got in this tub with you, we would never get out. "

"Oh," she says in her soft voice, still sounding bewildered.

"Is it what you need right now?"

"No, it's not. But I don't want to deny you if it's what you want." Something about her statement is unsettling, but I try not to ponder on it too long.

"Bella I want to try something that I think will help you feel better, but you should know I'm in…I'm in 'Nice Guy' mode not 'Hanky Panky Pervert' mode."

"Hanky Panky?" she says incredulously.

"Hanky Panky is an excellent expression and I'm making it my personal mission to bring it back in style." An innocent grin emerges and I'm grateful for the lighter mood.

"What are you going to do?" she asks as I take off my undershirt off and drape it over the chair with my oxford.

"You'll see." I wrap my arms around Bella and press my fingertips into her back, on either side of her spine. I inch them down until I feel the center of tension in her lower back; when I shift my fingers, her whole body moves with me. "You see that, right here is where you're tightest. We're in the water, so I'm going to use some real pressure…let me know if it's too intense." The muscles are a solid knot under my touch, but after a few moments I feel the release, "Good, Bella," and I move my fingers down another inch, repeating the process.

"I wish we could come back here someday…back to this hotel," she says wistfully.

"We can, Bella. In fact, I've been wondering what you'd like to do after the meeting. We could come back here, eat some lunch, take a nap." _Move in._

"Mmmm, napping is good…but I'm supposed to be on a plane to Rio right now, we have to check out." My fingers continue to trail down her back, her voice and her body reflecting her relaxation.

"We could stay here another night."

"No," she sighs, "too expensive."

_Here it goes_, "I spoke to the front desk this morning, told them we had a change of plans…they offered the room again, complimentary, because of wedding package."

"Huh, that's odd," I wait, but her body stays relaxed; she sighs again and continues, "I really should get back to Forks today…I think…I think I _want_ to go back to Forks today."

"Okay, I could drive you back…or," _brace yourself Masen_, "you could go back with Charlie."

"No, I sent Charlie home yesterday, remember?" I don't respond and after a moment she asks, "Charlie is back in Forks, isn't he Edward?" Guilty, I look up into her now narrowed chocolate eyes and…wait for it…wait for it…her muscles tense again, _damn_.

I explain my conversation with Charlie, and tell Bella that I think he could handle the news about Mike, but noticing her avoidance of his name, I call it "pre-wedding events." Fortunately, her body unhinges and she's loose again beneath my hands.

"You're right, he'll figure it out sooner or later anyway."

"Sounds like Carlisle."

"He's more than a professor to you, isn't he?"

"He is. He and his wife Esme are sort of…parent figures."

"Edward…are you going to get kicked out of seminary because of m-…because of last night?"

I snort gently, "Bella, seminaries house more sinners than saints—if they did that, the halls would be empty."

"Good," she exhales and her body softens, freeing the stress captured by the unasked question. "I'm glad Charlie is here, thank you," she sounds surprised by her own revelation. I remove my hands from her body and she asks, "What do I owe you for your mad massage skills?"

"One kiss," I say offering my cheek. She gives me a peck and in return I provide one last long stroke, from her shoulder blades, down her back, over her backside, down her thighs, and pinching off at her big toes.

"You are now officially a prune, Isabella Swan."

She giggles and there is a knock at the door—Advil is here.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you for your lovely reviews-they mean the world to me. I hope you all enjoy the holiday season. Next Update: About two weeks. **


	3. Professor Swan

**A/N: Whether this chapter finds you coming home after a late night with friends, making New Year's Day dinner with family, or spending well-deserved alone time, I hope it finds you happy and healthy.**

**A special thank you to my Beta, and friend, PaintedTeacherLady. She has mad editing skills, terrific insights, and unwavering support. I probably have three errors in the previous sentence that she would have found.**

**

* * *

**

Chapter Three

Professor Swan

I lean against the wall, out of the way, watching Bella and Alice spend these last few minutes together. The scene that plays out before me is better suited for a barroom than a hospital room. Best friends - drunk, Alice on morphine and Bella on Valium, laughing about old memories and making fun of Alice's past boyfriends. At any minute, I expect them to find a jukebox behind Alice's EKG machine and play Van Morrison's, "Brown Eye Girl." Someday soon, I will to make this role-play a reality. They will be free from hospitals and funerals, bruises and blood-tinged gauze. I will take them out and treat them to the best Seattle has to offer; we will celebrate the end of this difficult trial. I'm relieved to see them share this carefree moment. Alice has yet to be assessed today and still doesn't know her prognosis; Bella is about to walk into the jaws of Satan disguised as Mrs. Newton. If drugs help to lighten the load, so be it.

Bella looks at the clock and groans; she knows it's time to go. Since the funeral planning is taking place in the Grief Room just a few floors below, Alice is relentlessly begging to go.

"Young lady, you may not come to the meeting, we've been through this," Bella mockingly scolds in a motherly voice. "Tell me, what are these called again?" Bella points to the painful looking metal plates on Alice's hips.

"They're pins?"

"No, they aren't. What are they called, Alice?"

"They're bolts," Alice roles her eyes, playing along like an ill-tempered child.

"And what are they bolted to?"

"My pelvis," she grumbles.

"That's right, they are bolted to your pelvis because you, missy, may not move one millimeter—and I know that's very hard for you—but you can't come with us."

"Fine, but why can't you move the meeting in here? I promise to keep my mouth shut. I won't say a word…" she's pleading again.

"No—and do we need to have our conversation again about too many visitors and germs?

"It's not fair; Mr. Tailored Dress Pants here gets to go."

"I'm only going because you can't. Trust me, she'd rather it be you." I know better than to come between these two friends.

Alice places her hand over her heart and says, "Good answer. Oh Bella, you are training him so well." She's a little pixie who smiles at me, letting me know her teasing is good-natured. "Bella, you're coming back after the meeting, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"And you'll tell me everything?"

"I will, I promise."

"And if this comes to blows, you'll get one good punch in for me?"

Bella displays a counterfeit smile; I'm learning when she's holding something back. She leans down kisses Alice on the top of her head.

"Okay, good luck kids," Alice says. I turn to wave as we leave and catch a glimpse of Alice's distress. Though it would be nearly impossible for Alice to be in the room for the meeting, being kept out must be agony.

When we walk out of earshot of Alice's room, Bella asks, "I think that went well, don't you?" Her voice is serious, her playfulness gone.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"You know, all the joking and stuff—keeping it light." Bella's carefree performance was just that, a performance.

"I think she seemed much better, don't you?" she asks.

"Definitely," I say appeasing her. "How are you doing?"

"Me? I'm fine," Bella says absently as we reach a restroom. "I think I need to freshen up a before we go down, I'll be right out."

I take the opportunity to duck back into Alice's room; she greets me wide-eyed and serious, she too is now sober. "What's wrong, did you forget something?"

"No. What's your cell phone number?" She tells me and I program it into my phone.

"Alice, I will put the meeting on speakerphone. It will be in my pocket, so I don't know what you'll hear, but you have to put your end on mute. If you talk…"

"I know—you'll cut me off." I'm glad we understand each other. "Thank you, Edward."

"You're welcome."

"I think Bella seems better, don't you?" she asks.

"Definitely."

I return to the restroom in time to catch Bella's exit. We ride the elevator in silence, and though I'm tempted to ask what she's thinking, I choose not to disturb her with my questions. Instead, I grab her hand and stroke her knuckles with my thumb. She's pensive—preparing? Praying? I should be praying, instead I'm fantasizing about coming to Bella's defense. If Mrs. Newton says one remark that could be construed as less than friendly, I pull the pin that will justify my explosion. I will unleash a vicious tirade the likes of which this hospital has never seen; I will throw tables, tackle both Newtons at once, and whisk Bella away to my lair… no, my castle. If Bella wants a knight in shining armor, I'll give her one. The doors to the elevator open and I secure my game face, ready for battle.

We walk towards the G.R., but Bella stops a few yards short of the door. "Edward, you have to relax." _Relax?_ What does she mean? I haven't said a word. She checks to see if anyone is watching before she brushes her fingertips along my jaw, under my ear. "If you clench your jaw any tighter, I think you'll shatter your teeth." I hadn't realized she noticed my tension; I swallow and attempt a serene appearance. "Edward, I have only one request…no matter what is said in that room, I need you to let it be."

"Let it be?"

"Don't react, please." She's killing my plans; I'm stymied.

"But Bella, why would you let her walk all over you and not let me come to… "

"First," she cuts me off, "I'm a big girl, I can take whatever they give; and second, because I asked you." No, I won't let this happen.

"Please," she whispers, "for me." This doesn't need to be the battle royal I envisioned, but we have guilt in our arsenal of weapons and with a few choice words I can end this abuse.

"You're asking me to sit there silently while Mrs. Newton spews her depraved, misguided cruelty?"

"Yes, I am. That is exactly what I'm asking you to do." I look at her for a long while trying to figure out how to convince her. "Edward, I want you there more than anything, but if it's too hard for you—if you can't, I understand." Is she serious? Is she threatening to keep me out? When I look into her eyes, I know the conviction of her words; indeed she is serious.

"No, I'm coming with you, I'll rein it in." Bella reaches up and gives me a kiss on my cheek, "Thank you, I need you in there." She needs me, maybe not to defend her in the way I know how, but she needs me.

My pre-meeting 'things to do list' has one item remaining. The hand in my pocket feels like lead and my mouth is dry with resistance, I hate myself for what I am about to do, but I believe she'd want the choice. "Bella, before we go in, do you want to put this on?" I give her my hand, her wedding band on my pinky finger. Her face falls for a moment and then she smiles bravely, I think more for me than for her. "I knew I forgot something. It looks better on you than it does me."

"You don't have to wear it Bella."

"No, no, I really should—no need to give Mrs. Newton any extra material." She pulls the band off of my finger, slips it on her own, and twists it nervously.

We both take a steadying breath and I ask, "You ready for this?"

"Nope. But I'm looking forward to getting it over with—let's do this."

Though I don't recognize the only person waiting in the room, he is clearly special to Bella. She immediately falls into his embrace and he gently sways her, "Bella."

"Reverend Weber, I'm so glad you're here," she holds him tightly, pressing her cheek into his shoulder. The man is probably in his late fifties, salt and pepper hair and watery blue eyes. He wears a simple blue check shirt and he looks as though he could be from a different time, a simpler time—he is the salt of the earth.

"I'm sorry I didn't stay longer yesterday. Can you forgive me?" His voice is raw, his words, sincere.

Bella looks up at him, consoles him. "Revered, you were with him when he…Angela needed you, all of Forks needed you."

"Always so selfless, Bella?"

"I was in good hands." Bella waves me over. "Reverend Weber, this is Edward Masen, he's a seminary student."

"Edward, it's good to meet you. Carlisle spoke very highly of you."

"You've met Carlisle?"

"We met briefly yesterday, I think you were on your way in, and we spoke on the phone last night. He's a good man, you're lucky you have him for a mentor."

"I thought I felt my ears burning." Carlisle walks in and greets Reverend Weber with a handshake, "George."

"Edward." He shakes my hand with both of his. Carlisle's face gives nothing away, as warm and approving as it would be on any other day. He wraps his arm around Bella and places his hand on her shoulder, her face bright pink, eyes fixed on her hands as she frantically twists the wedding band. Distracted by my predictions about Mrs. Newton, I had forgotten how difficult it would be for Bella to face Carlisle today. He senses her embarrassment, rubs her upper arm and gently says, "It's good to see you Bella. Did Sibiohn have something for you when arrived this morning?"

"Yes, thank you for coordinating things; they gave me Valium."

"Valium? Well that will relax the muscles, you must be feeling better." Bella gives Carlisle two thumbs up and she cautiously meets his eyes for the first time.

"Be careful with that stuff," he says in his fatherly tone.

"I will. I only took a half of one; it seemed to do the trick."

"Bella?" We turn to see Charlie in the doorway; Bella lunges into his arms. At first he seems surprised and then relieved by her open affection. Bella whispers something into his ear and he tightens his hug.

We introduce Charlie and Carlisle and begin to make small talk about the drive from Forks and the unseasonable good weather for early autumn. At any given moment, at least two of us are touching Bella—a stroke on her arm, a squeeze on her shoulder, a gentle rub on her back. The love and prayers of others finally surround the bride who sat alone yesterday. Bella turns her attention to Reverend Weber, "Will the funeral be in Forks? Are you going to perform the service?"

"Assuming that's what you want, yes Bella. Remember, your opinion on these arrangements matters a great deal."

"I hope my opinion matters too." We all turn to see Mr. and Mrs. Newton enter the room. They must have aged ten years over night. They both look ragged—pale, swollen eyes, Mr. Newton face, deeply creased. Yesterday's fury is today's wreckage.

"Of course Margaret, your opinion matters too. Shall we all have a seat?" Reverend Weber leads us to the table. I feign turning off my phone, but call Alice and place the phone in my pocket. Charlie and I sit on either side of Bella, facing the Newtons, while Carlisle and Reverend Weber take seats at the table's ends.

Revered Weber begins by handing out copies of the obituary he's prepared and reading it aloud. Bella's face is expressionless as she stares at the page she's holding, but she isn't actually seeing it. She doesn't even flinch when he reads, "…survived by his wife, Isabella Newton (nee Swan)…" I place my hand on her knee under the table. At first she doesn't react, then I notice she's imperceptibly nodding her head, asking me to keep it there. I give her knee a small squeeze, and she increases the nod, fractionally.

The obituary is a beautiful tribute that exceeds the basic template. It's obvious that he knew Mike Newton well and, on paper, he doesn't sound like the monster I know him to be. Will I have parishioners I will know this well? Will I take them from birth to baptism, marriage to death? I watch Reverend Weber, he is good at this—he is patient, reading the nonverbal signs, moving ahead only when he senses agreement.

Mrs. Newton speaks up, "In lieu of flowers, we would like donations to be made to The National Wildlife Foundation."

This suggestion pulls Bella out of her trance, she responds in an anxious voice, "But what if there aren't flowers? There should be flowers…everyone should have flowers at their funeral." I grip Bella's knee for support and she places her hand over mine, intertwining our fingers.

"There will still be flowers, Bella. Mr. Newton and I are sending flowers, I'm sure others will too. Don't you intend on buying flowers?"

"Bella," Mr. Newton speaks up, "Margret and I will provide the casket spray…"

"Casket spray…" Bella utters; she's confused and doesn't want to ask, a small frown appears on her brow. She's too young—too young to know about casket sprays, obituaries, and funeral planning, too young to be a widow. I again have the urge to take her away. _Lord, I pray you grant Bella peace and me restraint._

"We can order flowers on your behalf if you'd like," Mr. Newton offers.

"Thanks Michael, but I'm sure we can handle that on our end," Charlie says, his voice a little surly. _Go Charlie._

"We will also have the silk flowers we use for Sunday services Bella, but it's up to you."

All eyes are on Bella, and after a long moment she says, "Mr. and Mrs. Newton, I know the National Wildlife Foundation is an important charity to you…but when we first started dating, he donated a lot of time to Big Brothers and Big Sisters. Can we include them as a charitable option? I think he…Mike will…would have liked that."

"Yes, I couldn't agree more Bella." Mr. Newton looks at Bella with admiration.

"We're agreed then?" Reverend Weber scans the room for confirmation before continuing with his suggestions for the service. Bella stays silent throughout the discussion. Everyone at the table scans the list of songs and readings, standards for Lutheran funerals. A brochure of caskets from the Forks funeral parlor is passed around the room. Mrs. Newton is drawn to the most expensive model, and seeing no protest, she gets her choice. Since the obituary won't appear until tomorrow and people will be traveling from Seattle, Reverend Weber suggests a Thursday afternoon funeral. They agree to a closed casket with one hour of visitation before the service.

"Is there anything else I haven't mentioned, any questions, suggestions?"

"Communion. The sacrament." Bella speaks up, surprising everyone. "Will we include communion in the service?"

"Bella, communion at a funeral can be so cumbersome. People don't know if they should take it, not take it, I'd really rather not," Mrs. Newton says.

Ignoring her, Bella pushes forward, "I would like to receive the sacrament at the funeral Reverend Weber, can you arrange that?" Her voice doesn't waiver, she's sticking to her guns.

"Of course, Bella."

"What about the others, are we going to offer it to everyone?" Mrs. Newton sighs.

"Yes, we are. I would gladly exchange a little awkwardness for the symbol of God's mercy." I grip Bella's hand, not as a show of support, but of pride—she's won her small battle.

Reverend Weber inspects the faces of the key players and says, "It is settled then; we will have communion at the funeral. I think that takes care of everything?" Everyone silently nods. Bella visibly relaxes and we begin to stand from the table.

"We have some other matters to discuss," Mrs. Newton says with a new, harder edge to her voice, "financial matters."

"Don't you think that conversation is best reserved for lawyers?" Carlisle asks.

"We'd only have to pay more people to divvy up a very small pot. You and Mike didn't have life insurance yet, did you Bella?"

"No Mrs. Newton," Bella's voice is small again. I rub my thumb over Bella's knuckles; this will be a difficult conversation.

"So there's Mike's individual bank account and your shared account, correct?"

"Yes Mrs. Newton."

"We think it would be appropriate for Mr. Newton and I to take Mike's account and of course you can keep the shared account."

"Now wait a minute," Charlie jumps in, "Bella worked while Mike went to graduate school, she should get his personal account."

"Charlie, I can assure you that Bella did not pay for Mike's tuition, we did," she retorts. I don't think I can hold on much longer, I run my fingers through my hair with my free hand, my heart is racing, I'm ready to speak. If there's going to be a fight, I want in.

"I think Carlisle has a point here, maybe a lawyer should look into his accounts." _Thank you Revered _Weber_. _

"No, it won't be necessary…take it, I don't want it." _ Bella, no!_ She moves her hand to my knee; she's pacifying me—this is so backwards—fucked up, really. _She has one request, one request, one request—I repeat it like a mantra, a prayer. _

"Bella, Mike's account has just about enough to pay for the funeral. How about Mrs. Newton and I pay for everything."

"I forgot about the expense—yes thank you, that would be helpful," Charlie, Carlisle, Reverend Weber, and I all shift uncomfortably in our seats. _She's thanking him?_ If it weren't for the casket with the price tag of a small car, this would be a cheap funeral—plenty of money left over for Bella. _Please Lord let me be cremated when I die._

"And then there are the wedding presents…" Mrs. Newton continues her torture.

"Wedding presents?" Bella blanches.

"I had many friends at that wedding and I'm sure they gave generous gifts."

Every man at the table begins to speak at once, but Mrs. Newton effectively silences us all with her booming voice, "Proper etiquette for a canceled wedding is to return the gifts."

"What do you mean, 'canceled wedding'?" Charlie asks. When I look around the room, it's clear that he's the only one in the dark.

"It's okay Dad, I'll return the gifts," she says quietly, she's fading away. I don't know why Bella gives in like this. Does she sense Mrs. Newton's threat to tell Charlie or does she just want this to be over? Regardless of her motivation, she is now little more than vulnerable prey.

"Lastly, we have the condo to discuss. Do you still plan to move in? Will you keep it?"

Bella shakes her head, her eyes vacant; she's disappeared inside of herself.

"I don't know if you'll get the price you paid in this market, but you're still responsible for our down payment loan."

"Margaret…" Mr. Newton pleads, his face shameful.

"_Margaret what_?"she snaps. "We might as well get this over with now."

At last I can jump in, "Do you want to sell the condo Bella?" She nods. "I know, _we_ _know_, a real estate agent…" _come on, Carlisle._

"Yes, of course, my wife Esme. She primarily handles commercial properties, but I'm sure she can take on your condo sale." I look at Bella hoping this will bring her back to life, but I see she's too far-gone.

"What's her commission?" Mrs. Newton asks. I whip my head back to Carlisle to see him press his lips between his teeth; she's even gotten to him.

"The usual charge, but I'm sure for Bella she will handle this gratis," Carlisle says when he regains his composure.

"Anything else, Mrs. Newton?" I ask, trying to keep my voice calm for Bella's sake, but still ready for a fight.

"No, that's everything." My anger is quickly obscured by my need for the meeting to end.

Everyone exchanges looks around the table waiting for someone to have the last word. "Thursday, then?" Reverend Weber asks. We all nod in agreement and hurriedly rise from the table glad this is over. I help Bella up from her chair, turn off my phone, and lead her by the elbow to the door; I want her away from the Newtons before they finish her off.

"No, wait, I have to do something first." She turns to Charlie, "Dad, can you meet me upstairs in Alice's room?"

"I can wait Bells."

"No, that's okay Dad. I know she wants to see you and I'll be up in just a sec, okay?" She's trying to sound light; she's trying to get rid of Charlie. Bella, what do you have planned?

"Alright Bella, I'll see you in a minute." Charlie says warily.

Once he's gone, Bella walks over to the Newtons, "Can I speak to you for a moment?" No. My patience is gone. _What the fuck are you doing Bella, exposing your throat? _Bella glances back at me briefly, she must sense my tension from across the room, and she's asking me to stay.

Bella tries to speak privately, but everyone in the room listens in. "Mr. and Mrs. Newton, I know the events of this week have brought us all unspeakable suffering, and that suffering is far from over. But I want to thank you—from the moment I met you, you have treated me with kindness. I have always had, will always have, nothing but love for you in my heart…I'm sorry to say this, but I think you were told some things about me that weren't entirely true…" Mrs. Newton opens her mouth to speak, but Bella stops her, "and I don't _want_ to know what was said—I'm sure he had his reasons. I just want you to know that I would never do anything to hurt you, or Mike, or his memory. I know that we are God's children, and with his guidance, I have faith our love will grow and replace this pain. You will always be in my prayers."

_Where there is hatred, sow love._ Isabella Swan, Professor of Grace.

Her words silence the room.

The Newtons awkwardly hug her, but say nothing.

I'm so stunned by her display; I barely realize Bella has walked past me out of the room. I run a few steps to catch up with her brisk pace.

"Good, I was hoping you'd join me," she quips coolly, but her shaky voice reveals her unraveling. I pull her into the supply closet, desperate to get her alone.

"Bella, what you said in there…that was…how did you…" I'm a bumbling fool in her presence.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

"Philippians 4:13?"

"No idea. It's just one of the quotations I like and try to live by." She starts to pace in this impossibly small room, twisting her ring, speaking breathlessly. "I'm Catholic, Edward, we don't read the bible as much as you Protestants."

"Come here." I pull her into my arms, holding her tightly. I feel her heart racing against my chest, through to my hand on her back.

"Edward now would be a really good time to kiss me." I immediately find her mouth—and she kisses me, hungry, in need. Her tongue fills my mouth and she pushes me against a shelf of blankets and scrubs and who the hell knows. Her hands move from my chest, to my face, to my hair—she pulls my hair roughly, almost painfully, and I know she is—we are—releasing all of the pent up anger and frustration of the last hour. I hold her face in my hands and relish the feel of the movement under my hands as she kisses me over and over again.

She stops for a moment and says, "I'm so proud of you, Edward. You did so well in there."

"_You're_ proud of _me_?" She looks at me confused, as if there is nothing wrong with our role reversal. "Isabella Swan, where did you come from?"

"Forks, Washington," she says matter-of-factly.

"Forks, Washington?" Really, who is this woman—she amuses, confounds, and inspires me.

"Mmm-hmm." Her brown doe-eyes look up at me; I press my forehead to hers and move a lock of her hair behind her ear as I take in the smell of Bella. I need to kiss her again; this time is not to be rushed, but to be savored. I bend down to catch her mouth with mine and tilt her head back when I straighten. Her breath is on my cheek as we deepen the kiss. Unable and unwilling to hide my arousal, my hand travels to her backside and I push into her ever so slightly and elicit her moan into my mouth. Desperate to taste her flesh, I trail kisses from her jaw, to her neck, to her collarbone. Oh the taste of her, the smell…she's heaven and I'm carried away. Will I ever be able to kiss this woman without wanting to be inside of her?

"Edward you know we have to stop, right?"

"I know no such thing," I say between kisses and she giggles.

"I'd hate to see who's waiting outside that door."

"Let's lock it," my kisses continue down to the top button of her shirt.

"Edward…"

I work my way back up to her lips with the intention to stop, but I don't. I kiss her some more, tasting her lips, her mouth, again and again before finally pulling myself away. "I know we need to go," I say out of breath, and step away from her. "I just need a minute to pull myself together."

Bella glances at my erection before looking away and asks, "Did I do that?"

"Yes Bella, this is all you." Suppressing her smile, she bites her bottom lip. "And that, right there, is doing nothing to help the situation."

"Sorry…" she doesn't look sorry. "What do you think about to 'pull yourself together'?"

"Baseball. I know it's cliché, but it's all I got."

"Oh, that wouldn't work for me. I love baseball players." _Detail filed._ "Is it working?" she asks.

"Not really, being in a small room with you has its disadvantages."

"Need help?"

"What do you have?"

"Your choice, I can talk about the Newtons, Carlisle, my bank account…" It works. Reminding me of the last hour slams me back to reality.

"Can I ask…how is your financial status?"

"Normally I wouldn't share this, but you're not catching me on my best day. Once the hotel bill from my honeymoon clears from my one and only bank account, I will have about three thousand dollars, a button, a paper clip, and a small ball of lint." She smiles the kind of smile that says, 'I'm so fucked, I don't care anymore.'

"I have a really good feeling about your condo, Esme is quite an expert."

"Really? Even if we just got back the asking price…I know we borrowed some, but all of my savings went into that down payment."

"Have faith Bella," I say and bring her to me one last time to kiss her forehead.

The coast is clear outside the closet. Bella and I are walking to the elevator when I see Carlisle approach. This conversation needs to happen, so I send Bella to Alice without me.

"Walk with me?" Carlisle asks.

"Sure."

"He cheated on her, didn't he?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"Esme and I started to put it together last night, then I spoke to George Weber. He told me Bella wanted to call off the wedding and that Mike spent a great deal of time with a particular local girl."

"That would be Lauren. Reverend Weber knows then?"

"He does."

"Well, at least she doesn't have to hide it from everyone."

"No, she doesn't." We turn down a hallway, and I know where he is leading me. "So, are you looking to expand your real estate holdings?"

"Something like that."

"How much over the asking price are you planning to go?"

"Not enough to raise suspicion. Why, are you worried about my finances?"

"No Edward, you could buy her whole building and not put a dent in your portfolio."

We reach our destination, the hospital chapel. Carlisle opens the door and says in his soothing minister voice, "Come pray with me." Like the sinner I am, I drop my head and walk in. Regardless of how often I come here, this space always astounds me. Walking though these doors transports me to an alternate universe away from the cold florescent lights and echoing hallways of the hospital; it is a simple place of worship that could be found in any city or town across the country. Seven dark cherry pews, a small alter, and candles to light in prayer, absent are the symbols of any one religion—no crosses or statues of Mary, just a small bookshelf holding copies of The Torah, The Quran, The Bible, The Book of Common Prayer, The Bhagavad Gita, and more.

I choose a pew in the middle and Carlisle follows me in. He looks at me, and I think he's asking if I'm ready to have this conversation. Am I ready? No. Will I be any more ready later? I doubt it.

**A/N: **

**Happy New Year!  
**

**-Liz**

**Next update...about 2 weeks.  
**

**I'd love to hear what you think. **


	4. A Little Sensitive

**Thank you to Sunshine for pre-reading, orangeapeal for setting me straight, and of course my Beta, PaintedTeacherLady, for allowing me to constantly pester you.**

**I hope you enjoy...**

* * *

Chapter Four

A Little Sensitive

I look away from Carlisle and use this moment for a little pre-emptive prayer_. "Dear Lord, before Carlisle brainwashes me into regretting last night—and I know he'll try, it's his job—anyway, you should know exactly what I'm thinking. Last night wasn't wrong. It wasn't. I know you gave us all the playbook, and I didn't follow your game rules, but I felt you more last night than almost any other time in my life. You were there…I hope you didn't watch… but It was holy somehow. I know I'm just some rookie on your team, and Carlisle is…a…third base coach, but I'm hoping you'll root for me. Amen." _

Carlisle eyes still ask me for permission, I nod and brace myself as he begins. "Let us pray. Heavenly Father we give thanks for your many blessings—for allowing us to be your instruments of peace and compassion. We thank you for granting us enough patience to watch your eternal light shine through Bella. We ask that you have mercy on Mike's soul and grant him entrance into your heavenly home—to forgive all of our sins and to ease the sorrow of those suffering. Please Lord, bless this bond between Edward and Bella and continue to bless the relationship between Edward, Esme, and me. May Edward always know our love for him. In the name of The Lord, we pray. Amen."

"Amen." Carlisle disarms me with prayer. But a storm is coming; I can feel it.

"Edward, I have something for you." He pulls a manila folder from his case. "Before you say anything, you should know I've been carrying this around for at least a week—never found the right time to give it to you." The folder contains a catalogue and an application for The University of Washington's PhD in Clinical Psychology. _This doesn't make sense. _

"I don't understand. I know we talked about a Ph.D. after I'm ordained, but you know I'm leaning towards a Theology Ph.D. I guess I could reconsider the Psych degree, but isn't this a little premature?" I look at Carlisle for some clue, but he gives nothing away. What does this have to do with my celibacy? I begin to flip through the catalog, "I have over a year to finish my Masters in Divinity and I want to get ordained before I …" Oh, I understand.

"You're kicking me out of seminary for having sex? Are you serious?" I stand to leave and slap the folder down on the pew._ I dared to hope for some sort of acceptance. _"And you start this conversation off with prayers for mercy and blessed relationships…terrific." I don't need any of this shit—I'm going to see Bella.

"Edward sit down," he commands before I can exit the pew, I pause and he continues, "Did I _not_ just say I've been carrying that folder around for a week?" I snort; I'm angry, I want to leave, and I definitely do not want to have this conversation. "Do I lie to you Edward?"

"No," I say, the irritation evident in my voice.

"Do you think you could afford me a few minutes of your time?" He's being sarcastic. He too is losing patience. I walk back over and take my seat, propping my elbows on my knees and running my hands through my hair. When Carlisle doesn't say anything, I look at him and find he's in the same position, but his hands are clasped together, he's silently praying.

Well, I can pray too. _Okay, Lord, I guess I got your answer on the whole, 'root for Edward' campaign. Don't know if I agree with your answer, but I get it, you need to stay consistent if you want some sort of credibility. I'm taking a shot and throwing out another request…I am really angry right now, on the verge of saying something I might regret, and I don't want to do that—especially not with Carlisle. Please help me keep it together through this. We'll talk about Bella later. Sound good? Amen._

I see Carlisle mouth, "Amen." After a long moment, he looks at me and asks, "Edward, why did you decide to be a minister?"

"Carlisle, you know why," I grumble.

"Humor me."

"Because I want to help people."

"Help them how?"

I lean back and gather my thoughts. "Help them through their difficult times, help them find strength, to sort out their demons…have faith in God." I wonder if I'm making sense, if I'm passing this test.

"And how do you feel about working in the Family Room?"

"Good, very good. I've been able to keep my emotions in check…well, up until yesterday, and I think I could be good in there, in that type of situation."

"You prefer being with people one-on-one and in small groups?"

"Yes."

"As opposed to a large congregation?" Carlisle knows I still struggle with addressing a large group.

"Yes. You know this already." I know where this is going; he's building an argument. I feel ill. I have a crystallized vision of my future that is too good to abandon. I prepare myself for a debate, to fight for my vision.

"Edward, you know the kind of work we do in there is just a small fraction of my job. It's mostly preparing weekly sermons, some teaching, a lot of church politics…"

"I know, but I've thought about that. I wouldn't have to teach. Maybe I could only work at hospitals—be the on-call man of faith at a few places. Maybe I could set up some sort of faith counseling center, make house-calls…I don't need to have a congregation in the traditional sense." The argument is weak; I sound desperate, my head is cloudy from sleep deprivation—my thoughts scatter as my future visions fade with each passing minute I sit here. I'm not ready to say goodbye to that future. I search to find a graceful way to end this conversation.

"Why would you do that? Why would you work so hard to reach a destination you don't really want?" But I do want this; I can be good at this. "Watching you in seminary only confirmed what I've always thought, you should be a psychologist not a minister."

His words come as a blow. I'm wounded, speechless. I'm unworthy of following in Carlisle's footsteps—a fact I always knew, but foolishly believed he did not. _Okay God, I'm done here, point well made, let's wrap this up_. I close my eyes for a moment waiting to sense some sort of lighting or temperature change that tells me I'm no longer sitting in this chapel, that I've transported myself. It doesn't happen. I'm forced to walk through the fire.

"Because I'm not devout enough?"

"No, no, I'm not saying that at all. This is about your gifts, not your challenges. Can't you see that you're trying to mold the job of a minister into that of a counselor, or therapist, a psychologist of some sort?"

"But what about God and faith and…" My heart is in my throat and it's choking me with emotion that I want to swallow down.

"You know my position on that—you don't need to be a minister to minister."

I nod. I've had enough and want to leave—I need to process this on my own. I pull from every ounce of energy in my body and I say in a composed tone, "Thank you Carlisle, this is good advice. I'll take a look at the application."

"Edward, please tell me why. Why are you so fixed on being a minister?" I see his face twisted in anguish. He's done so much for me; I owe him some sort of response.

"I don't know," I shrug and try to sound nonchalant, "I thought maybe you and I could, I don't know, be sort of colleagues." The look on his face tells me he needs more, urges me to keep taking. "We would have our own congregations, but…you know, we'd still read the same books and talk about them—discuss theology and philosophy. Share stories…keep our Sunday dinners…have a reason to stay in touch. It's a stupid idea, I know."

"Edward, I'm sorry…I've made a big mistake." He has let me get too close to him. I've always tried to keep my distance, but I've crossed the line. I look at his tear-filled eyes and my own tears threaten—I've had enough. _God, are you in here at all? Are you listening?_ I stand again to leave, "Thanks Carlisle, this has been an important conversation and I know it hasn't been easy for you, but I need to check in on Bella right now. I'm sure we'll talk again soon."

I turn my back, but he stops me with his words, "Edward, when your parents died…" _Please God, make him stop,_ "and you came to live with us, Esme and I made a choice to never be your parents, never try to replace them…Edward? Edward, please look at me…" I turn to see him wipe away his tears. My eyes burn as the angry sixteen-year-old inside me warns me not to cry_. _"Your parents are always alive in your heart and mind. We are not your parents. But Edward, you will always be our son. More than a son, you're my friend. We love you unconditionally—you will always be a daily presence in our lives." I take a step towards him and put my arms around him. I pat his back, enough contact to comfort him but still keep my control. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you this sooner," his voice breaks and I hug him more sincerely.

But he has told me, in so many gestures of love. My mind floods with deeply buried images: Carlisle taking me home from the hospital, Esme decorating my new bedroom to replicate my room at home, my first Christmas without my parents and every one thereafter, trying to be a strong young man during the day, but falling apart in that bedroom at night, silencing my sobs in the pillow while praying for God to save me from my sadness.

Holding back my tears becomes impossible; I let go and cry for the first time in years. I desperately hold onto this man whom I love and need—this man who anchors me. "I love you Carlisle, I love you so much." I have two fathers in heaven and one on this Earth. Carlisle is my father.

Carlisle hugs me tighter and after a few moments, we pull ourselves together, breaking our hug and wiping our tears. Carlisle hands me a handkerchief. My father always carried a handkerchief, and in that moment I decide I too will never leave home without one.

"Well, aren't we two masculine men of the new millennium?" he laughs.

"You know, Carlisle, I read that women really like a man who can cry now and again."

"Good to know, maybe I'll cry for Esme tonight and see if it has any effect. Speaking of women, this Bella Swan is something special isn't she?"

"Yes she is Carlisle." This talk was never going to be about my abstinence, or judgment, or sin. The warm smile on Carlisle's face is that of one friend who is truly hopeful, glad, for another. A friend sent from God. _Okay, okay, I get it God…you're still in here._

"That was some display in The Family Room," he says, his respect for her evident.

"I know. Carlisle, when did you know with Esme?"

"Sometime between when I first laid eyes on her and thirty seconds later…you?"

"Something like that."

"Well, we shouldn't make her wait then, should we? Dinner tonight?"

"It is Sunday, isn't it?"

~0~

I meet up with Bella and Charlie in Alice's room in time to catch the tail end of the physician's consultation. Depending on her ability to heal, the doctor estimates another ten days in the hospital. Attempting a little bedside humor, the doctor adds, "If your pelvis doesn't cause any trouble, you might get released early for good behavior." Alice is not amused, nor does she pretend to be for his benefit. Then he adds worse news, "Injuries such as this respond best to intense therapy."

"Therapy?" she says, emphasizing each syllable.

"Yes, physical therapy, residential physical therapy, actually."

"Residential?" she asks, seething. This poor doctor has no idea who he's dealing with. _He's a nice guy Alice, maybe a wife and kids, please don't kill him._

"Yes, we have an inpatient rehabilitation program. It won't feel like a hospital, more like a college residence hall."

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary." Alice appears as if she might be smiling, but she's really bearing her teeth.

"We could talk about this another time, maybe when your parents get here. I understand they're arriving today from Europe."

"I am a twenty-four year old, independent woman, what do my parents have to do with my decision to…"

"Doctor, it sounds like we're still in a wait-and-see period. We won't know anything for sure until her pelvis starts to heal, right?" Bella jumps in.

Instead of responding to Bella or Alice, the doctor speaks to Charlie, "Yes, we can wait and see before making any decisions." His dismissal of the two women does not go unnoticed. Bella and Alice exchange annoyed looks as he talks to Charlie about various options for physical therapy. These are two strong women capable of taking care of themselves and each other. I no longer feel bad for the doctor and hope Alice gleans some joy from sparring with him this week.

The good-doctor leaves and the conversation winds-down. Topics float from the weather, to the flight schedule for Alice's parents, and finally, hospital food. We discuss nothing of importance. In fact, Charlie and I don't say anything, we just watch as Alice and Bella avoid their inevitable goodbye. Alice is the brave one who finally says, "Bella, if you don't get out of here soon, I won't get any beauty sleep before my parents get here."

"And you could use it, you're looking a little worn-out," she teases.

"Now I know Forks is a lot more exciting than Seattle, but you're coming back to me soon, right?"

"Right."

"Charlie, if she doesn't, Edward is going to roll me to Forks in this hospital bed and we're going to snatch her away, understand?"

"You got it Alice. I'm sure Bells will be sick of me soon enough."

"Okay, get over here and kiss me good-bye, Bella"

Bella takes Alice's face in her hands and presses her lips to her forehead. Alice can no longer keep up her cheerful act, and tears stream down her face. Bella kisses each eye, her tear-streaked cheeks, the tip of her nose, and then wipes Alice's tears with her thumbs. It is such an intimate scene, I feel I should look away, but I can't.

Bella whispers, "I hope these tears aren't for me, because I'm going to be just fine."

Alice sniffles, "I know you are; I'm really going to miss you though."

"I know, me too." Bella pulls a disposable cloth from a nearby container, and begins to gently wipe Alice's face like a mother would for her sick child, her voice still soft, "Now look what you made me do. You've got my Bella germs all over you."

"I like your germs." They share the kind of look that says a thousand words that only the two of them could ever know. After their long, wordless conversation, Bella says, "I'm going to go now, so I'll see you later."

"Okay Bella, I'll see you later."

~0~

As Bella and I to wait by the hospital entrance, Charlie retrieves the car. She stands a few feet from me and rolls a pebble under her foot in small circles. Her hands buried in her pockets, she's deep in thought. The only sound is the quiet scraping of the pebble across the pavement. Although we've spent this whole day together, I still don't know what she's thinking, how's she's feeling. With the exception of the bathtub this morning, she hasn't even cried. Hell, I've cried today more than she has, so has Alice, and Carlisle. Only a few minutes left before she returns to Forks and I won't see her again for several days. I wish I had something comforting to say. _Lord, help me to care for her…help me to find something to say that will provide solace, relief._ I wait, but hear nothing, so I keep it simple and ask, "Bella, how are you?"

She doesn't say anything, just gives a quick nod while keeping her eyes on the rolling pebble.

_Lord, that didn't work. Do you have anything else? I know…this is a tough one, that's why I 'm calling on you here. You see Bella's one of the best players you have on your team and we want to keep her. It would be bad news if she started looking for another franchise. _

_Lay your hands on her, Edward._

"Bella…" I step to her and place my hand on her elbow; I hope that's enough. "_How are you?_" She nods again and bursts out in tears. I pull her to me. My poor, brave girl, how long have you been holding this in? I speak in her ear as I rock her, "I know Bella, I know. Let it go, don't keep this bottled up." She cries uncontrollably. I feel her slide down my body, her legs weak. I pull up and secure one arm tightly around her waist as I move my other hand in long, slow strokes over her back, from her shoulders to her hips. I think I'm getting better at this._ Thank you, Lord, thank you._

Twenty-four hours ago she walked down the isle a reluctant bride thinking life couldn't get much worse, and yet it's only spiraled downward since then. I don't want to leave her, especially not like this.

"Let me come to Forks with you," I whisper, but it only spurs more tears.

_Lord, let me go to Forks. I'll follow Charlie's car or get the address from Alice. Bella won't even know I'm there. Maybe I could just hang around outside her bedroom window and watch her sleep, make sure she's okay. No? Alright, I should love her, but not stalk her. _

Oh my Bella, my love. Do I tell her I love her? No, it's too much, she's already overwhelmed. Over Bella's shoulder, I see Charlie pull up to the curb in his car. He doesn't get out, just waits, watches, and then adverts his eyes. She takes a long shuddering breath, and pulls away wiping away her tears with the back of her hand before I have a chance to. _Must buy handkerchiefs._

"You, young man, may not come to Forks with me. You have school tomorrow," she says poking the circle of tears on my chest. She's using the same mocking motherly tone she used with Alice. If this is what she needs right now, I'll play along.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, because I don't want to get a phone call from the principal…or a bishop or cardinal or anything."

"No ma'am."

"And, you will need to take this shirt to the dry cleaners before it gets ruined," she says as she feels the material between her fingers. "Because this is definitely not The Gap."

"No ma'am."

"And you'll send me the bill?"

"Of course."

"And you'll come to the funeral?"

"Of course, Bella."

"Good…thank you," she breathes.

She takes a step back to gather herself, but I clutch her arms, unwilling to let her go.

"Bella, if you change you mind, if you want me to come…"

"I know."

I give her an innocent kiss, one appropriate for Charlie's watchful eyes.

"Goodbye, Edward."

"I'll see you later, Bella."

When I open the car door to let her in, we hear Paul Simon's, "Father and Daughter" playing on the car stereo:

_Gonna paint a sign  
So you'll always know  
As long as one and one is two  
There could never be a father  
That loved his daughter more than I love you _

I lean in the car and say, "Good song, Charlie." He gives me a knowing smile and I'm sure it's not a random choice. Bella and I exchange one final glance, and she wears her counterfeit smile for me. I shut the door and watch them drive away. Bella will be in Charlie's good hands, he might not be a man of many words—but he has is own way of communicating.

As their car turns out of the parking lot, a single thought drums in my head—_I need a cigarette, _or a drink, or a cigarette _and_ a drink. It's been a long time since I've had one of those tasty nicotine treats, and though quitting was brutal, I could use one right now.

Searching through the hospital gift shop is no help_. What, no beer and cigarettes section?_ A small bouquet of flowers catches my eye—a square, short glass vase housing a cheery crown of daisies, deep pink roses and light pink mini carnations. I purchase the flowers and a box of candy and make my way back upstairs. "For me?" Alice's voice is soft, surprised.

"I thought your room could use a little love." I place the flowers on her bedside table and she eyes the chocolates.

"Is that _dark_ chocolate?"

"Yes, but these are for me," I tease.

"Hand them over, Padre."

"You wouldn't like them; they have a little sea salt mixed it."

"You're taking your life in your own hands."

I laugh and give her the box; she opens them and offers me the first piece. I pop it in my mouth and take the seat next to the bed. The chocolate melts slowly on my tongue—I close my eyes, I don't want to chew, I just want to let the sensation of sweet and bitter and salty, the rich viscosity of cocoa butter engraved with salt crystals fill my mouth and distract me from this day. Thank you, God, for chocolate.

"You should see your face, that's the face of a man who likes his chocolate. I don't suppose you have a single brother lurking somewhere."

I swallow and run my tongue over my teeth, sucking away any remaining chocolate. "Sorry Alice, only child."

"Oh well." She stares at me for a long while and finally asks, "How was she? How was she when she left?" I shrug. I don't know what I should tell her, in part because I don't know how Bella really is, and in part because I think I should protect Alice. Can anyone really hide anything from Alice? Would it do any good?

"Not sure—she cried a little. I asked her if I could come to Forks, but…"

"It's not you. Bella likes her alone time now and then." I nod, feeling slightly comforted. "She likes you Edward, a lot. After all, she sold you her virginity for a bowl of Captain Crunch." _Fuck._ I run my fingers through my hair. When did they talk? They haven't even been alone together. Alice answers my silent question, "Bella and I are very good at invisible sonic speed texting."

"Are you going to kill me now?"

"Chocolate, flowers, the speakerphone call…no, you're no use to me dead and we have a lot of work to do. Besides, I actually like you. It's strange, I don't even feel the need to give you the 'don't hurt her or else speech.'"

"Good, it's not necessary. And I like you too Alice."

"Plus, you were safe last night…and you got her to eat, that's more than I've been able to do lately."

Safe?

_Safe?_ Good Lord. I didn't use a condom. I didn't have a condom. I didn't think about having a condom. What virgin my age—what celibate, seminarian virgin my age carries around a condom? My sex fantasies _never include a condom_. Wait, I didn't come inside of her, no…I did. I definitely did. _Lord, please, please, please Lord, let me be sterile—not always, just right now, just last night._

"Edward, she told you she's on the pill, right?"

"What?"

"Edward, Bella has been on the pill for months." My cheeks blow out with the force of my exhale. I didn't realize I was holding my breath.

"Why is she on the pill?"

"It was for him. He wanted to…what did he call it…'ride bareback?' as soon as he got the chance."

"Classy." Disgusting, really. There was a time in my life when I would have eaten the likes of Mike Newton for breakfast. _Why was she with this guy?_ But she wasn't…was she? Bella was never _with_ him. Call it religious abstinence or call it a sixth sense, Bella knew-she knew he wasn't worthy. She picked me. Last night, Isabella Swan chose me to be the one. The magnitude of her decision-our decision—is only beginning to sink in. I want to ask Alice about Mike, but I decide to save it for another time, there are more immediate concerns. "Alice, what was the other thing you said, something about eating?"

"Ever since Mike's revelation, she hasn't been able to keep much down. She's trying to eat, but…well…she's lost a lot of weight in a little amount of time. Even Charlie noticed.

"Maybe he can get her to eat at home."

"He's going to try."

I can sit here feeling helpless and angry or try to get something accomplished—I choose the latter. "You say we have a lot to do?"

Alice hands me a wire-bound steno-pad with a list scribed in perfect script on the first page:

To Do:

Call work, out approx three weeks

Call Rose, not moving in

Unpack B

New job for B

Wedding gifts

Cancel Honeymoon hotel

Condo?

To Get:

Clothes

Make-up

Laptop

Cell charger

Stationary

"Who's Rose?"

"An old friend of ours from college. She planned on moving in next month, but she understands that Bella's going to stay."

"You and Bella are roommates."

"Yes, she and Mike were going to move into their condo after the honeymoon. She already has some boxes over there, but I think it would help if we moved them back to my place…and when I say 'we'…" Alice gives me a guilty wince.

"I understand. I can handle it."

"My parents can do most of the list…"

"Really, it's okay. I have a friend I can call." Another good excuse to hang out with Jasper.

"What's this part here about a job? Where does Bella work?"

Alice raises one eyebrow and tells me in a tense voice, "Newton's Olympic Outfitters, the Seattle headquarters."

"You mean they are _The _Newton family and Bella _works for them_?"

"The one and only, she's worked for them since high school, their very first store is in Forks." They're abhorrent—nickel and diming Bella when they sit on a small fortune. If I had known this during the meeting, I wouldn't have kept quiet. "I know, sickening isn't it? I nearly went ballistic when I heard the whole wedding gift conversation. I almost turned the mute off."

"I might have let it go. A little strange to have your voice screaming from my pocket…"

"Oh no—I would have insisted you place me in the center of the table." Alice sighs regretfully, "I could have ripped her to shreds."

"I'm sure. I would have liked to witness that."

"We still have Plan B."

"Plan B?"

"Next page." I turn to the next page and we each take another chocolate as I silently read.

_Dear _,_

_Bella is so grateful for your generous gift of _. I am sure your _ would be helpful to Bella as she pieces together her life following her beloved husband's tragic and untimely passing. I write to inform you that she has requested my assistance in selflessly returning all wedding gifts. _

_If you would like your gift returned, please indicate your request and preferred mailing address at AliceBrandon . com _/BellasGrief_. If you would like Bella to keep your gift as an expression of your sympathy and love, you may indicate so at the same address. _

_Sincerely,_

_Alice Brandon, Maid of Honor_

She's good, frightening, but good.

"You like it, don't you? I know it needs a little work and I'll have to see the presents to flesh out the descriptions, but I think it will do the trick."

"I can't imagine who would be heartless enough to request a return."

"We'll see. There are some unopened gifts at the apartment, but they mostly received cards. From the looks of the guests, I've estimated roughly $15,325 in checks and gift cards—but mostly checks. It's the bridge she needs while she hunts for a new job and she could use some to pay back the Newtons' down payment."

"True." That's one thing Bella can take off her plate. I'll get the address when I move the boxes and make the sale soon—no reason to keep Bella worrying.

"Because that would be horrible, you know, waiting to hear about the condo sale."

"True."

"But you have this real estate friend, Esme is her name?"

"Yes." I don't know where she's going with this.

"And you think maybe she'll get the asking price?"

"Yes." I say slowly, suspiciously. What is she trying to say?

"Edward, don't you have something to tell me?"

I'm lost.

"So, looking to expand your real estate holdings?" she asks in a deep voice. What? _Fuck!_

"You really should be more careful when turning off your phone," she says dolefully.

Damn it! What did she hear? Kissing in the closet? Praying with Carlisle? _Crying about my dead parents?_ _Please God, I hope she didn't hear about my parents._ Did Bella hear? I have a vision of them giggling—listening to my every word. _Fuck!_ I groan as I try to find the words, "Alice…" but I have nothing.

"Edward, I'm so sorry—I hoped you'd tell me."

"What did you hear?" I snap.

"That was the last thing I heard—I swear—Charlie and Bella were coming down the hall and I turned the phone off, I promise." I close my eyes and try to gather my thoughts.

"Edward, please don't be mad—I'm sorry." I don't even know why I'm so pissed, I just am. They wouldn't laugh at me, would they? I don't want Bella to know about my parents, my money, or the condo—not now, not yet, maybe never.

I lean in and say, "Bella cannot know about the condo." I mean it as a threat, and she takes it as one.

"Of course…I wouldn't…I won't say anything. That's between the two of you. Besides, I want Bella to have her own money. Would I go through all this with the wedding gifts if I thought…if I wanted her to…?" Her tears spillover—I'm the asshole. _Christ, please give me the gift of immediate transport so I may send myself to my bed and forget most of this crap day. This is the second time today I've asked for this gift. I think I'm onto something. Think it over._

I hand her a tissue, bitter that the handkerchief idea didn't come to me sooner. "Shhh… Alice, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I lost my temper." What do I tell her? That I don't want to explain my money...my dead parents? That I have an enraged sixteen-year-old living inside of me? "I'm a little…sensitive about some things."

"I only told you because I was afraid you were going to move in, or buy it for her, or something like that." Alice sniffles and wipes away her tears. "She found out Mike took Lauren there—she hates that place. I didn't want you to do something you'd regret."

"I understand, I'm sorry. He is a…he was a…"

"A total prick."

"Yes, yes he was. And you're a very good friend."

"Yes I am." Her tears subside. This good friend—good person—lies in a hospital bed with bolts through her pelvis. And what did I do? I yelled at her until she cried. _It's a banner day, Masen. _I look down at Alice and see a fierce, but wounded animal. In many ways, she and I are utterly different. But in some deep, fundamental way, we are the same-somehow familial. I should care for Alice as if she was my own, my kin.

"Alice, can you forgive me?"

"Of course, Edward. I'm feeling a little sensitive myself. You're not catching me on my best day." I have to smile at hearing Bella's words.

I hand her a chocolate and take one for myself, raising it to hers like I'm toasting with champagne.

"To better days, Alice."

"To better days, Edward."

* * *

**A/N: A few short messages:**

1-I've been working on a special chapter for the next update. We are going to Forks with Bella through her POV. When it is complete, it will be a bit longer than Chapter One, The Cherry Exchange. I plan on getting it to you in about 2 weeks. I sincerely hope you return for it.

2-I hate waiting for updates. If you get antsy like I do, stop by my profile and I will post Teasers on Tuesdays by 6:00 pm EST.

I know nothing about "pimping" my own fic, but I have a few works from others to pimp out to you.

You might have caught these already, but if not:

Forever and Ever by theladyingrey42

Second Place, Judges Vote/ Third Place, Public Vote, Cherry Exchange Contest

One of my favorite styles of prose—third person narration, omniscience limited to Bella's experience. The most tender and realistic virginity scenes I've ever read.

Bereit by Gothic Temptress

Maraschino Mention, Cherry Exchange Contest

An incredibly original, sensitive, and beautifully written piece set in WWII. This one will stay with you.

And

Reflecting a Loss by PaintedTeacherLady

My lovely Beta has terrific works of her own. Reflecting a Loss is a heartbreaking one-shot from Edward's POV; New Moon gone wrong. This is the story that led me to her.

Last, the site's tracking of She Gives Me Religion has been quite wonky in the last couple of weeks. Many authors are feeling it, and it really helps to know if you are out there reading. If you've been reviewing—thank you, please keep it up. If you haven't yet, I'd love to hear from you.

-Liz


	5. What Dreams May Come

**Thank you wonderful readers for staying with this story, for writing lovely reviews, and for bringing new friends along for this ride. When you bring a friend to the club, the first drink is on me.**

**Thank you to robsjenn… she knows why. (Yes, I stole that line from Icy. It always intrigues me.)**

**Thank you to Sunshine for pre-reading.**

**Great thanks to my beta, PaintedTeacherLady.**

**WARNING: This chapter earns its "M" rating for: 1) dark images; 2) dark, religious images, and; 3) graphic lemons which include the flavors of real lemons.**

**However, this story does not include the blend of dark, religious images and sex. I'll save that for another story ;)**

**Now, here is our look through the eyes of Isabella Swan…**

* * *

Chapter Five

What Dreams May Come

Warm water.

I'm submerged up to my neck in a bath of warm water. He is leaning over me. The long, soft fingers of Edward Masen move up and down my back, along my spine. He touches a tender spot on the small of my back and I inhale sharply at the pain, my bare breasts brush against the flesh of his expansive chest. His expression flashes from concern to pleasure and back to concern again. I am not the only one who feels the electricity of our touch. My eyes float from his shy smile and square jaw to the taut, sinuous muscles of his chest, back, and arms. I've always known the triceps have three parts, but until watching Edward move, I've never seen them in action. He is beautiful - more beautiful than any creature I've ever seen. Long and lean, his broad shoulders narrow at his slim waist, creating the perfect triangle. He must run… and lift weights… he must do something. He has that flat muscle on his lower abs, the one that leads the eye to below his belt, the triangle within the triangle dissected by the thin trail to Eden. _What is that triangular muscle called—obliques? No, that's something else._ The symmetry of Edward Masen is a lesson in Anatomy—a master class in Art.

"Bella." I hear a voice, but Edward doesn't speak.

"Bella… Bells?" That's Charlie's voice. _What's Charlie doing here?_

"Bella, we're home." I feel a nudge on my arm and begin to wake. Oh, I've been dreaming. I open my eyes and look out the windshield. Where am I? I'm in a car—a car… car accident… wedding, Alice, Alice is hurt, and Mike is dead. I close my eyes, hoping to fall back into my blithesome dream state.

"Take your time, I'll get your suitcase." I must have slept the whole way home, poor Charlie. Was I talking during my dream? I hope not—I don't think I have the ability to explain my nocturnal admissions right now.

Sue Clearwater's car is in the driveway already. Sue is here for Charlie, she's a good friend, and I think maybe more. Someday I should ask Charlie about their relationship. It's a little strange I haven't yet.

I follow Charlie through the front door of our small, Cape Cod style house. The interior of the house is unrecognizable. There are several bouquets of flowers in the living room—it smells like a flower shop. _Does this mean there won't be flowers at the funeral?_ Casseroles, Tupperware containers, crock-pots, and more flowers fill the dining room table. The smell of food cooking suddenly overtakes the smell of flowers. _Who lives here? Who did all this? When? Wasn't it just yesterday that we were all at the wedding? Was it?_

"Welcome home," Sue says as she walks from the kitchen to the dining room. She hugs Charlie and his tension momentarily recedes into her. It is one of the few times in my life that I see a glimpse of his vulnerability. Sue must be more than a friend—for both their sakes, I pray she is.

"Bella, honey…" She comes to me with open arms, and I allow myself to fall into her. Sue Clearwater is a woman made of steel, covered in thick layers of soft fleece; it is easy to be weak in her presence. One gets the sense that she would find a way to float to the top of the most turbulent ocean. She strokes my hair and says, "Bella, your mom called, she'd like to fly home to be with you."

"Sue, Bella just got home, can't this wait?"

"No Charlie, it can't," Sue is unaffected by Charlie's mild criticism. "Renee is thinking about getting the next plane out of Amsterdam."

"Amsterdam?" Charlie asks, confused.

"Don't you remember, Dad? Phil's new band is big in the Netherlands."

"I thought it was Germany."

"No, Germany was college graduation—it's the Dutch that kept them away from the wedding."

"Oh right, how quickly I forget," Charlie responds dryly. The joking about my mom and her husband Phil's globetrotting adventures started a long time ago. I noticed at an early age that if Charlie and I ever needed to speak of Renee, it would be best to do so through humor. To talk seriously about Renee meant acknowledging her as a real human being, one who left her husband and little girl with no warning and has kept inconsistent contact ever since.

"Do you want her to come, Bella?" _Uh-oh._ Charlie's question is serious. _Do I want her to come?_ I know it would please her to be here, to make her feel like she is the mother she really isn't. The thought of a classic Renee whirlwind visit, crammed with several years' worth of reserved, fervent guilt, makes me nauseous. Part of me knows it would be a nice thing to do for her, but I just can't, not this time. Charlie must read it on my face. He says, "I'll tell her to come another time."

"I can call if you want."

"No Bella, it's my turn." Charlie heads into the kitchen and I hear him dial the phone.

Sue distracts me by taking a paper plate and filling it with green bean casserole, potato salad, and macaroni and cheese. "Sue, that's not for me, is it?"

"Yes Bella, you need to eat something. You looked too thin yesterday. Beautiful, but thin."

"I'm just not that hungry right now." And it's the truth. I'm full. I'm full of guilt and sadness and confusion. "I'll eat something after I lie down for a little while."

"Well, you have to at least taste my venison stew; I made it special for you." The first batch of Sue's stew is an autumn tradition. As she uncovers the crock-pot, I look around the room and again take in all the food, flowers, and cards. There is a teddy bear in the corner with a red ribbon and a small card attached to its neck. Although I can't hear what Charlie is saying, his voice is tense. They must be arguing.

My chest is tight, I'm feeling overwhelmed. Sue brings a large spoon filled with stew to my mouth, her hand held under it to catch any dripping. I blow and take a small bite. It's a familiar taste—rich meat, salty gravy, acidic tomatoes, heavy with rosemary—delicious, but far too powerful for my dormant taste buds. I smile and tell her that I look forward to a bowl after my nap. Although I should wait for Charlie to be off the phone, I haven't been alone in the last forty-eight hours and I'm eager to get to my room.

"Sue, you don't mind if I head up do you?"

"Not at all Bella, you go rest."

I pick up the teddy bear on the way to the stairs. It looks like a polar bear about the size of a small bed pillow, and it feels even plusher than it looks. Good for hugging. The card reads, "_Bella, I'm sending you prayers. Love, Angela_." Angela Weber, Reverend Weber's daughter and my dear childhood friend, is sending me prayers. I can use them.

I climb the first three steps, but my legs do not feel like my own. After a lifetime of bouncing up these stairs, today acid burns in my muscles as I take each step. Legs of lead, it takes all my strength to hoist my weight to the fourth step. I continue, taking one at a time and resting a few seconds before I have enough energy to pull my body up again. _Is this from sore muscles? Exhaustion?_ I shouldn't be so lethargic, I'm sleeping like a champ—but I'm out of breath. I have to stop, sit, and take a break before I reach the top.

"Bella, you okay?' Charlie is looking up from the bottom of the steps holding my suitcase.

"Yeah, Dad. I'm taking a little rest." I want to stand immediately, but I don't yet have the energy.

"Stay there, I'm coming up." Shoot, I'm worrying Charlie. I grab onto the banister and raise my body to standing before Charlie reaches me. "You're still sore from the accident, aren't you?"

"A little. I have half of a Valium I can take."

"Let's try aspirin first. If that doesn't work, you can take a Valium—_half _of a Valium." I suppress a smile. I predicted Charlie would be needlessly nervous about the Valium. He opens the door of the bedroom and puts my suitcase on my bed. A few minutes later, he returns with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.

"If you need anything…"

"I'll holler… Dad, there's a lot of stuff downstairs."

"I know, Bells. We have some nice friends… either that, or we know a lot of people who think I can't cook." I consider asking him how his phone call went, but decide not to. It wasn't pleasant. She's not coming. Case closed. Yet another Renee disaster adverted. "Have a good rest."

"Thanks, Dad." He closes the door, and I am alone, alone, alone._ Thank you, Father in Heaven, I am alone in my purple bedroom—my sanctuary._ I unzip my suitcase and lingerie springs up like a jack-in-the box. So many times I wanted to throw this all away, but felt too guilty about tossing out the shower gifts of well-meaning friends. I'm sure the peignoir from Rose cost a small fortune. Well, my cup runneth over with guilt, there is room for no more. I scoop up the satin, silk, and lace into my arms and dump it into the too small wastepaper basket. It overflows, of course, but I find great joy in stepping down on the pile and trying to squeeze it all in. The remaining clothes are best suited for Rio, not much that is Forks appropriate. Fortunately, I usually keep a pair of pajamas in my bedroom bureau. I search through the drawers. Thank goodness, they're here—warm, red flannel. What else do I have? Some t-shirts… a sweatshirt… a pair of jeans… comfy white cotton panties… plenty to get me through a visit home. I don't plan to go out at all—what else could I need? Oh… the funeral_—what am I going to wear to the funeral? Damn it._

_It's okay Bella, you have plenty of time to go shopping; maybe Angela will come with you. _

I put on my pjs and walk to my desk looking for a pen and paper—my mind is a sieve right now and if I don't write things down, I'll lose them forever. Let's see, plenty of paper, and a cup with five pens in various colors and styles. I scribble the first pen on the paper and get nothing—it's too dry. I try with the second… the third… fourth… fifth—just a paper covered in invisible curlicues. Not a single working pen, _nice one Bella_. I give up and crawl into bed with my new teddy bear, repeating my things to do list: need dress, order flowers. Dress, flowers, dress, flowers… and shoes, neither strappy sandals nor sneakers will work for a funeral. Dress, flowers, and shoes. And I should go to confession. Dress, flowers, shoes, confession…

…I drift off to sleep.

My brown and purple patchwork quilt is too warm… I turn over on my stomach and find a cool corner of the pillow… I hear voices. _Where am I?_ I'm home… Forks… Mike is dead, Alice is in the hospital, I had sex. _I had sex?_ I had sex—I'll think about all of that another time. It's dark outside and there are definitely voices downstairs—lots of them. I have to pee. I step out of bed to find my legs are still stiff. Did I take the aspirin? Don't know. I cross the landing and go to the bathroom, careful to avoid my reflection in the medicine cabinet mirror. When I'm done, I head back to my room, but Charlie meets me on the landing at the top of the stairs.

"I heard you get up." This house holds no secrets; between the loud plumbing and the creaking floor, there is no such thing as sneaking around. "Some folks came over to say hi. They'd love to see you." See me? I don't want to see anyone; but I should, it's rude not to go downstairs.

"Sure Dad… um… let me get dressed."

"You look fine, come down in what you're wearing." Charlie's level of appropriate dress is a little different from mine—well, not that different, but I should at least put on a bra.

"Just give me a minute." Charlie purses his lips in concern. _Don't worry Charlie_. "I'll be down in a minute," I reassure him and he heads back downstairs.

Since I don't know if the aspirin worked, I opt for the half of Valium and put my bra on. I hear Angela's voice downstairs—I need to talk to her about something, a favor, I think. If I lie down and rest my eyes for a minute, it will come to me. Angela… favor… Angela, she looked so pretty yesterday in that pale blue dress… a dress, something about a dress. _When was that?_ Yesterday. A favor… a dress…

I wake with a jolt. _Downstairs, I have to go downstairs._ Wait, it's quiet. _What time is it?_ My alarm clock is flashing 3:14, but I have no idea what that means. The house is silent—I missed the party. Party? What do you call it? I missed the mourning. _Oh Charlie, I'm sorry. _He hates company; I wasn't thinking yesterday, or is it today? I reach for my clock to fix it, but I don't know what time it is. _Where's my watch?_ My apartment—I didn't wear one to the wedding. My wedding. The accident. I don't want to think about that right now.

There's a note behind my alarm clock and a sandwich on a plate wrapped in cellophane. The note reads, "_Going to work for a couple hours tomorrow. Call if you need me. Dad_." My father made me a cheese sandwich. No mustard, just two thin slices of white American cheese on soft, white bread—my favorite, next to cereal. He even made two diagonal cuts creating four small triangles. This is the way I cut his sandwiches; he usually cuts them in half, but never on the corners—never a diagonal cut. This is proof he's worried.

I bring the plate into bed with me and eat the first doughy triangle. The sandwich is so soft, it barely requires teeth, just melts on the tongue like communion. I'm so hungry—famished, really. _Why am I so hungry now, but at other times, I can't eat at all?_ The second triangle goes right past my lips and into my gullet. Okay, maybe that one went too fast. I take my time with the next one and wash it down with the newly filled glass of water on my nightstand. _Thanks again, Charlie._ My stomach rumbles in appreciation, I hope it's appreciation, as I take my last triangle. I let the last bite linger in my mouth; it's stuck to the roof—just like a communion wafer. If I'm going to have communion at the funeral, I need to go to confession this week. I should write that down somewhere…

###

... I'm kneeling in a pew of my Catholic church. It's not the Lutheran church I usually attend, the one where Reverend Weber ministers. It's the Catholic church of my childhood. The church is shaped like a cross with four entrances, cathedral ceilings, and beautifully frightening stained glass windows. The air, thick with incense, burns my nostrils. If incenses are burning, it must be an important day, maybe a holiday. I'm kneeling to pray, but my eyes scan the Stations of the Cross adorning the walls. These are such horribly sad depictions of Christ's last days—they terrified me as a child and little has changed.

A nun from my past speaks in my ear, her voice aged, crackled, "Yes, they are horrible, Bella. This is what Christ did for you, for y_our_ sins." I look around, but don't see her. Where did she go? Instead, I see others, hundreds of others. The church is packed and more people are flocking in. They are whispering to one another. Pointing at me. They fill the pews and stand against the wall, three and four people deep. _Is it Easter?_ No, these aren't Easter clothes… they wear black suits and dresses. They are mourners. What am I wearing? I look down to see I'm wearing my flannel pajamas. _I forgot to go shopping. I was supposed to go shopping! This is all wrong._ I drop my head in prayer, "_Please Jesus, make them go away, make them go away…I'm sorry for my sins, I'm sorry for my sins, I'm sorry for-"_

_SLAM!_

The thunderous sound of a heavy metal door shutting behind me breaks my prayer. It's quickly followed by the sound of the other three doors closing—_Slam! Slam! Slam!_ The echo vibrates through the pew. _Oh, shit._ The sound of scraping metal comes from all four sides of the church—the doors are being bolted shut. _I'm trapped._ I twist my body around to look for help, look for an escape.

Suddenly, I'm alone. The church is empty. The only sound is my pounding heart. I run out of the pew and down the aisle to the back, but the pews go on forever, I can't see an end to them. I can't see the back of the church. It extends to the horizon.

There must be an end. I must keep running… but my legs are so heavy… I can barely take another step. If I can't run anymore, I'll crawl. On my hands and knees, I push forward, desperately clutching at the long burgundy carpet. So much effort, but I make no progress. I'm panicking "_Dear Lord, Dear Lord, what did I do? I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry…"_

"Isabella." I hear a voice call to me from the altar. I freeze. _It couldn't be. _I close my eyes as I slowly turn. "_Please let it be, please let it be…"_

I open my eyes and there he is: Edward is standing like an angel on the altar. Edward is here; he's here to save me. He is wearing a priest's collar, and a black dress cassock that reaches floor. The single-breasted garment hugs every inch of his torso. I'm not scared anymore. Edward is here and he'll find a way out. Fear is replaced with longing.

"Come to me, Isabella." He says in a voice different from the caramel baritone I know—this voice is wisp thin, distant.

"But I'm not dressed, Father."

"Yes you are, Isabella."

I look down to see I'm wearing my wedding gown. No, wait… it's my First Holy Communion dress. Even my thin cross necklace, my first piece of jewelry, dangles at my chest. I stand and walk towards him. Edward gives me life, energy. I can run again, and I do. As I run, I watch him move about the altar. I'm not sure what he is doing. My eyes focus on the billowing unbuttoned bottom of his cassock as he moves—he looks like he's floating.

I reach the altar, not even out of breath. "Father… what are you doing here?"

Edward stops what he is doing for a moment and regards me. He angles his head to the side like he doesn't understand my question and says, "You wanted the Holy Eucharist, Isabella, the sacrament."

"You're going to give me communion?" _Is Edward a priest?_ He looks like a priest. I'm confused. He doesn't respond, just continues to stare. Something about him is different. He's passionless… expressionless… I'm not sure I like this anymore.

"Aren't you going to kneel before the altar, Isabella?"

"Of course… I'm sor-… sorry, Father." Oh, shit… I'm stuttering… I want to leave. I look behind me and hope to see the exit, but there's nothing. I look down each wing that makes up the church's cross, but there are only seas of empty pews.

"Aren't you going to kneel before the altar, Isabella?" he says again, mirroring the same intonation. I want my Edward… _where's my Edward? _

Frightened, I do as he says and make the sign of the cross, "In the name of the Father, and the Son, and The Holy Spirit. Amen." Kneeling before the communion railing, I close my eyes and pray for my Edward's return. I feel this priest moving, the gentle breeze of air across my face as his walks.

The air stops and I sense him standing close to me, my warm rushed breath bouncing back to me. I'm panicking. My eyes open to meet his wide, black band cincture just inches from face. I tilt my head back; he's looking down at me. A shy smile emerges from the corner of his mouth. He gently strokes my face and tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. _Are you my Edward?_

"Breath Isabella, it's alright. Don't be afraid." It's him. And in that moment, I am not afraid. My lungs fill with air. The serenity I feel in his presence is like no other. Those green eyes, almost kelly green eyes, look down at me with kindness. The lighting of this church catches the bronze in his hair—his hair, his eyes, his whole being is glowing, nearly sparkling.

I surrender in his presence, "Oh Father, bless me… bless me for I have sinned." Tears well up in my eyes, pleading for God's mercy, for Edward's mercy.

"I know Isabella." He looks a little sad—disappointed? He turns his back to me and takes the steps to the top of the altar. The absence makes me cold. I see he has prepared the offering-the wine and bread. Edward walks to the side of the altar and washes his hands before returning to the center and beginning the Eucharistic Prayer.

"_Father, let your Spirit come upon these gifts to make them holy,  
so that they may become for us the Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ."_

Edward makes the sign of the cross above the offering. He is so graceful, I can't take my eyes off of him. He continues, looking only at me. _This is a prayer for me…_

_"Take this, all of you, and eat it:  
this is my body which will be given up for you."_

Edward holds up the bread, genuflects, and then takes the chalice of wine and says,

"_Take this, all of you, and drink from it:  
this is the cup of my blood,  
the blood of the new and everlasting covenant.  
It will be shed for you and for all so that sins may be forgiven"_

Edward elevates the chalice and genuflects again. I watch him take the loaf of rustic bread, not a communion host, and rip it into three pieces. He dips one piece of bread in the wine, his eyes never leaving mine, and he says,

"_May this mingling of the body and blood our Lord Jesus Christ  
bring eternal life to us who receive it."_

I watch Edward place the red, wet bread back on a sliver plate, close his eyes and silently pray. I'm supposed to be praying right now. In fact, I think I missed some responses I was supposed to say during the prayer… but I can't concentrate. Watching the theatre of Catholic mass—the performance, the grandeur, particularly with Edward as the lead player, can be spellbinding. He says, "Amen," and begins to walk to me with the silver tray of bread and chalice of wine.

What is he doing? He's supposed to stay up there. Those green eyes burn into mine as he continues to walk, and says,

"_Bella, This is the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Happy are those who are called to his supper."_ His voice is thin again.

He waits, standing above me, and angles his head. Right, I remember and quickly say, "Lord, I am not worthy to receive you but only say the word and I shall be healed."

He blinks down at me. There is no smile; his face, impassive. The silver plate with three pieces of bread, two dry and one soaked in red wine, rests on the railing. Something is wrong with the plate. He takes a piece of dry bread and puts it in his mouth. I watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows.

"The body of Christ," he says as he brings the second piece to my lips. I open my mouth and offer my tongue. Gently, he places it in my mouth. I swallow, make the sign of the cross, and glance at the plate again. The bread… the soaked bread is red… deep, deep red. It rests in a small puddle of thick red liquid. I look at the chalice as Edward genuflects, before he raises it to his lips. That's not wine. _That's not wine!_

"_Edward, no!" _ He stops. "Edward, that's not wine… that's… that's blood." Again, he angles his head like he doesn't understand me. _Oh please, Edward!_

"Of course it's blood, Isabella. It's the blood of Christ. Don't you believe in transubstantiation?" _I do, don't I? I don't know._ He raises the chalice to his lips.

"_Wait! No!"_ I stretch up my hand to stop him, but it's too late. He drinks and drinks, blood trickles from the corners of his mouth. It travels like two thin veins down his chin that merge into a thick stream at his neck. The blood touches his collar, quickly spreading red over white. I can't watch. I bow my head and clasp my hands in prayer. I'm silently begging, "_Please, please, please, make him stop_." Like rain, droplets splash onto my hands. I don't want to look. I know what it is.

Gently, he lifts my chin with his fingers. I keep my eyes closed and press my lips together. _No! I don't want this!_

His long fingers span my jaw and grip forcefully to hold me still. "Bella, you asked for the sacrament—the blood of Christ." I feel the cold rim of the chalice press between my lips… wine… no, blood is spilling as I struggle to pull away from his ever-tightening grip on my jaw. I can taste the blood, the salty, warm blood. It splashes down the front of my dress.

"Isabella… the Blood of Christ," he says through gritted teeth. _No, no, no—don't look._ I know what I'll see… I don't want to see his face… the blood…

"_NO!"_ I yell and whack the chalice away with my arm. He releases me.

My eyes spring open and I lurch straight up in my bed.

_Holy Shit! What was that?_

I've knocked over a glass of water—nearly across the room. I look at my clock, it's flashing 11:26, and I have no idea what that means. It's daylight. I fall back into my bed, blinking wildly and trying to catch my breath.

_It's okay, Bella. It was a dream, just a dream._ I try to slow my breaths as images of the quickly fading dream still flash before me like electric shocks: the doors slamming; Edward, tucking my hair; Edward, drinking the blood. _No, no, no… don't think about it._ Replay it now, and it will be burned in my mind forever. I rub my hands over my forehead as if I can erase the dream with my fingers.

Lying in bed won't help me forget, so I grab a towel to clean up the water. After I sop up the spill, I return the towel to the bathroom hamper. With the medicine cabinet open to avoid the mirror, I begin to brush my teeth. My mouth feels horrible_. When was the last time I brushed?_ Was it The Four Seasons? When was that, yesterday?

_The Four Seasons, that's the origin of your dream, Bella._ Did I really have sex with a man I just met? Yes. If the cabinet was closed, I would give myself a long, hard look in the mirror, but instead I stare at Charlie's neatly organized razors, soap, and first-aid supplies. _What's this?_ It looks like Charlie moved my Valium from my bedroom to the cabinet_. Bella, stop avoiding; you had sex with a man you just met._

_Oh, Bella, Bella, Bella, you have three choices:_ _You can admit you made a mistake and beat yourself up. You can admit you make a mistake and forgive yourself. Or, you can be honest with yourself… you are not at all sorry._ His voice is in my head, "_Isabella Swan, if I lived a hundred years, I wouldn't regret making love to you last night_." I can almost feel his breath at my ear. Why did something so wrong in my head feel so right in my heart? I truly believed he was sent from God—an amalgamation of everything I have ever wanted, before I even knew I wanted it. Needed it. I thought he was an angelic apparition, a delusion. I had to know if he was real, and if he wasn't, I wanted to fall down that rabbit hole and never return. He was real. He _is_ real, Bella.

I close my eyes and I can still feel him touching me, his hand firmly around my waist, my back pressed against his chest; kissing me—his soft, moist lips behind my ear, trailing feather-light kisses down my neck. His caramel voice saying my name, "_Bella…Bella_..." I grab a bar of Irish Spring soap from the shelf and take a strong sniff. It isn't Edward, exactly, but it is clean, manly, Irish… _Is 'Masen' Irish? _It's close enough.

I turn on the sink faucet and, and as the water warms, I lock the bathroom door and unbutton my pajama top. _No harm in getting a little cleaned up, Bella._ The soap works into a warm, thick, rich lather in my hands. Oh, the fragrance—citrus, wood, clean—wafts through the air, filling this small room. I need more. Closing my eyes, I bring my sudsy hands to the nape of my neck and slide them around front to my collarbone. His smell envelops me.

Tension drains from my body. We're in the closet, and my slick hands follow the path of Edward's mouth, from my neck to that most sensitive spot between my breasts. I feel his hands on my backside as he grinds his erection into my belly and kisses me. I take the wet bar of soap and slowly slide it up and down between my breasts, imagining what it might feel like to have Edward, _there._… so naughty, but so good. The soap slips out of my hands back into the sink, but I don't care. I palm my swollen breasts, my nipples so hard at the thought of him… I pull… oh, my…

_I need to get to my bedroom, now._

I dry myself off with the first towel I see, pull my top around me, and cross the landing calling downstairs, "Ch-Dad, are you home?" Nothing. _When am I going to get this chance again?_ My pajama pants are off and I'm in bed within seconds. My bottom lip is swollen, numb with arousal. I bite it as I run my fingers under the waistband of my panties. The elastic is pulled taut between my hipbones, creating a gap where soft flesh used to have a home. I'll eat today—but not now. My hand slips under my panties and over my sex. I'm so wet. I didn't know it was possible to be so… _Oh… _I draw little circles and close my eyes. It is no longer my hand, my bedroom…

… Edward is above me, surrounding me, in me. We are in my—our—hotel bed. I'm beyond my nervous chatter and now just experiencing the phenomenon of Edward Masen being inside of me. I can still feel his forearms nestled between my shoulder blades and the mattress—his face just inches above mine. Oh, his Irish Masen smell. He rocks his entire body over me, into me, in a slow, even rhythm. He rubs his nose along mine—the mix of our warm breath. I hold onto his shoulders and move my hips to meet each gentle thrust. Edward's body slides between my wet thighs. His dark, hooded eyes never leave mine. Each time he rocks into me, he breathes my name.

"_Bella…"_

"_Bella…"_

"_Bella…"_

This beautiful angel is inside of me, the thought is consuming. "_Bella_… _Bella_…" Inside of me, stretching me, filling me. He dips his head and brushes his soft lips against mine without breaking his rhythm. Again, another kiss… I can taste his feeling for me on his tongue. Like pulling a loose thread on a sweater, my body unravels, opening me further. No pain, only pleasure. He must feel it. He moves in me farther, and lets out a soft, "_Oh_." I run my hands from his shoulders, along his muscular back, and stretch to reach his sculpted backside.

I hold him to me and my heart swells. I want to say the words, _"I love you, I love you, I love you,_" but stop myself for fear they will disintegrate this illusion.

"_Bella… Bella…"_ He's pushing me higher and higher. He kisses me again, forcefully invading my mouth. I run my hands through his hair, to his face. I feel a pull deep, deep in my stomach. I've never felt something so physically, emotionally, profound… My body quivers. I fear my own climax.

His rhythm quickens…

"_Bella, Bella, Bella…"_

His face… his eyes pleading. He thrusts into me, hard… stops and grinds his pelvis into my throbbing flesh. "_Please, come,_" he begs.

I fall over the edge, pressing the pads of my fingers into his shoulders.

"_Augh." _My body convulses around him. The core of me clutches to the core of Edward. He continues to thrust wildly as I orgasm. I squeeze my eyes shut… I'm cresting again… _Dear Lord!_

Edward stills and I pry my eyes open to watch him come. His face, exquisitely anguished as he grunts, "_My God,"_ then falls into a blissful release as he pours himself into me.

He collapses. Then he rolls us onto our sides, his hands on my head and back, holding me snugly to him.

As I catch my breath, and slide my wet hand over my thigh, I can still smell him. Right here, right now in my little bed, I can smell him as if I'm still nuzzled against his chest. I draw in my knees and pull my purple quilt and around myself. The white bear needs a hug and I find he fits perfectly in the nook of my stomach.

"Dad? You home?" I call out. _Just checking._

Edward Masen is the kindest, most gentle man I have ever met. Even if I never see him again, I won't regret making love to him—won't regret choosing him. But I will see him again. I know it.

###

I am so thirsty.

And cold.

My white bear is painfully compressed between the mattress and my boobs. I toss him aside as I pull my blanket around me and try to fall back asleep. _Wake up, Bella. _Don't want to. _Wake up! _The life coach inside my head forces me to open my eyes. I take in my surroundings, remembering I'm in Forks… the accident… Alice. Mike is dead. I roll over, there's no reason to get up, and hug my white bear.

But I'm thirsty.

I look for a glass of water on my bedside table, but instead find a square-shaped bottle. My eyes adjust as I reach for it… Pedialyte. Grape Pedialyte.

"Edward?" I call out, my voice rough, raw. I look around my silent, dimly lit bedroom. _He's not here, Bella._ But where did this…? _Charlie._ Charlie must have spoken to Edward. Quickly, I sit up and drink down several long swallows of the purple magic elixir, feeling it lubricate my sticky mouth.

My alarm clock reads 6:49 and it's no longer flashing. The orange sky is scratched with stratus clouds—it must be dusk. I don't hear Charlie, but he should be home soon. _Get your act together, Bella. If for no other reason, do it for Charlie._

I put on my pajama pants and totter down to the bathroom, happy to find the cabinet already open. I brush my teeth, pee—dark yellow, I think that means something, and find a small jar of Vaseline that serves my sorely cracked lips. The bottle of Valium stares at me and I consider my still aching body, but decide against it. _Bella, you're stiff because you've been in bed all day. Now pull yourself together before Charlie gets home._

I make my way downstairs, past the flower bouquets, and into the kitchen. The inside of our refrigerator looks like an aluminum foil graveyard. Never has so much food been in this house. I peek under the lids and open up containers—sweet potatoes, soup, another tray of mac and cheese, and the mother load—a spiral sliced ham. Fortunately, some has been eaten. They must have eaten last night at the party… the mourning… the mourning party.

There are small, soft dinner rolls on the kitchen counter. I nestle a little piece of ham in one to create a tiny sandwich and shove most in my mouth in one bite. Too salty… why does everything taste so salty, even the bread? I toss it out and head back to the fridge. Charlie bought milk; this is a good sign. I reach in the cupboard to see an unopened box of Total Raisin Bran cereal. _Very healthy, Charlie. _

I make a bowl and eat it right there leaning against the kitchen sink. Mmmm. As I crunch and slurp, I think about the fact that Charlie bought me cereal and Pedialyte. _Charlie always buys me cereal, doesn't he?_ Maybe I like Edward because he's similar to Charlie. Is that weird? No, no, Charlie is a good guy, the best.

After cleaning up my cereal, I wander to the living room and look out the window. Charlie's car is here…and it's getting lighter out. _Shit, it's not dusk. It's dawn. How long did I sleep? Don't freak out, Bella. _This is good. It's the start of a new day. Charlie must be asleep. I will pull myself together and get something accomplished.

In fact, it is morning, my muscles are stiff, and I know the ideal remedy-sun salutations. Our throw rug will work as my yoga mat. Mountain pose, why can't all the poses be this easy? Inhale, arms up… this feels good. And exhale, head to knees, _whoops, head rush_. Inhale, right leg back in a lunge… left leg back for plank… _whoops, no plank_… and… I'm done. Corpse pose. _Screw Mountain, this is the best pose._

I've been staring at the ceiling for a really long time now. I don't know what I'm doing, waiting for it to change? It's still white and we still have a cobweb in the corner. That's a reasonable project for today, cobweb hunting. I wonder how Alice is doing—still too early to call. My cell phone hasn't rung; she's probably been in too much pain to call. It's my fault. I don't want to think about that right now. Edward didn't call. _Where's my phone?_

I roll to my side, stand, and search for my cell phone in my jacket pocket. It's here. It's dead.

The stairs come easier when I'm on all fours. Though I can't find my charger, I do locate Edward's Advil and take two, along with my birth control pill. My teddy bear watches me as I wash it all down with Pedialyte; he approves. Poor little guy, he hates the red ribbon around his neck, and for some reason, so do I. I had a dream about a red neck… or collar, or something. It slips off easily and I give him a good scratch; I'm sure it was itchy. Oh Teddy, no… _Pedi_, _you are Pedi_, let's go downstairs and get ready to show Charlie how together we are.

Pedi and I sit on the couch with a paper and pencil ready to begin our list:

I can't think of anything to write.

_Blah, _

_Blah, _

_Blah, _starts my list.

I know there are things to do… _Think, Bella_.

Well, I need my charger. Where did I leave it? The apartment? The condo?

Jesus. Christ.

The Earth falls away from me.

I don't have a place to live.

I don't have an apartment anymore.

I don't have a condo.

I have to sell the condo.

I have a mortgage payment due.

I have wedding presents to return.

I'll work… I'll work my ass off and make money…

I don't have a job. _Do I?_

Oh. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Holy Mary, Mother of God… _Help me_. Holy Mary, Mother of Fucking God—s_orry, God—_Help me.

Where is my rosary so I can hang myself?

This is not happening. This is not happening. This is not—fuck, I can't breathe. I hold Pedi to me hoping he can plug the gaping hole in my chest. Mike is dead—I can't breathe…

_Jesus, okay Jesus… I know I haven't been talking to you in little while because, I've been so freaked out and scared and I don't know why… but I've been a real shit. I just need your help, because if I can't breathe, Charlie is going to freak the fuck out. Jesus, I'm sorry my mouth is getting so bad. _

From somewhere within me, I hear Edward's voice, "_Breathe Isabella. It's alright. Don't be afraid."_

My lungs expand with air like I'm a diver emerging from a pool. The air whooshes out of me.

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale…

I can breathe again.

I sit for a long time like this. Just breathing.

What am I going to do?

_Keep breathing, Bella._

Inhale. Exhale. Inhale…

I stare at the blank wall opposite this couch.

What am I going to do?

I am going to survive, that's what I am going to do.

I will always have Charlie.

I will always have Forks.

I will always have a home.

Pedi looks at me with his sympathetic eyes. _I will always have you too, Pedi._ We curl into the couch and pull the afghan over us; I don't want Charlie to hear us cry.

I wait for the watershed, but it doesn't come.

I am numb.

###

"Bella, what is Alice doing here?" Mike's mad and I don't care. I slide across the leather bench in the limousine and he follows me.

"Wherever Bella is, there I will be. Get used to it," Alice says as she follows us in and takes a seat across from Mike.

"Really? Are you planning on going to Rio?" He spits at her.

"You don't think she's still going to Rio, do you? Fucking stupid prick."

_Can't wait to see these wedding photos. _

"Bella, are you going to let her speak to me like that?" He grabs my hands like we're lovers, spouses. We are, sort of. I yank my hand away. I'm going to vomit.

_Am I going to let her speak to him like this? Yes. No. I should do my own fighting._

"Don't beg her to save you, you pussy. You made your filthy bed, now lie in it."

I slide away from them and lean my head against the car window, pulling birdseed out of my hair. I watch their mouths moving. They are pointing at each other, waving their hands around, yelling—but I only hear silence. My only gift in this life is to shield myself in, and others out.

_This is your fault, Bella._ Not only because you went through with the wedding—you could have paid the Newtons back, or told the truth, you coward. This is your fault because you've been in denial for… for… forever. When did you first know you didn't love him? And he you? _Yes, this _is_ my fault, and it all needs to go away._

_Lord, have mercy. Find forgiveness for my sins… my horrible sins. I swear to you I will open my eyes. I will open my eyes to every sign… every gift… everything… Lord, show me a way out of this marriage. Save me, Lord Jesus Christ, save me. _

They continue to bicker. I continue to fall away. Alice's delicate bird-like features, looking so fierce, in spite of the feminine pink flush that matches her dress… I'm so sorry, Alice. Oh Mike, with your mottled red face and round, light blue eyes… oh Mike, where did we go so wrong? How did we end up here?

Suddenly, they both freeze. I watch as everything moves in slow motion. Their faces go slack and they turn their heads to the car window next to them. The clear glass flashes to bright white then shatters into little fragments that fly through the limo, a blizzard of broken glass.

I watch as a piece soars through the air towards me, an errant snowflake. It slices through my bottom lip. The door crumples into us like a piece of paper. There's a headlight… a car… a car is inside the backseat with us…

_Whack._

Mike's head hits my cheek and slumps into my lap. He's looking up at me. Pupils dilate. Blue eyes turn black. Blood pours from his nose. He looks like a boy, just a boy.

The slow motion, the silence, ends. A freight train of noise rushes in. The car horn won't stop. There's screaming and running outside of the limo. Screaming inside of the limo—I jerk my head up—_Alice! No!_

Alice's arm, her fingers, outstretched to me… her wild, frantic eyes, beseeching me as she screams. I pull away from Mike and crawl across the foot well to her. The lower half of her body is pinned under something. I can't look.

I take her hand and hold it to my chest and grasp the top of her head with the other. She stops screaming and I can already hear distant sirens over the car horn. "Alice…" her eyes erratically scan around the inside of the car. "Alice, look at me. You are going to be alright. _Fucking look at me, Alice!"_ She fixes her eyes on me. "Listen, you are going to be alright." Her eyes grow calm; I think she understands. "The ambulance is coming. I can hear it. You can hear it too, Alice." She blinks once, slowly, and I take it as a yes. "Yes, yes, you can hear it too. It's coming and I'll stay here with you…" Eyelids flutter and close. "_NO!_ No, no, no, Alice, no. Please, please God, _Alice, don't die, don't die_…"

A car door opens behind me. Hands are on me, pulling me. "No!" I kick my legs and claw at the carpet, gaining a few inches. "No! Alice… Alice… _I'll stay with you_…" The hands are pulling my gown… it rips, granting me freedom to scramble farther into the wreckage. I dig my nails into the upholstery. A strong arm locks around my center, dragging me out. I scream, "_NO!… Alice!"_ as I tear several scratches across the couch.

"Bella!" Charlie holds me to him as I struggle, stretching my arms out to the limo, to the television.

"Alice, no…_ Alice, Don't Die!"_

In one sweep, he pins both my arms to my body and yanks me to his chest.

"_Bella, wake up!_ Alice is fine. Wake up!"

"No… she's… no… she's dead… I saw her…" I'm so confused. _Where's Alice?_ I saw her, dead. I'm staring at the television screen at the end of our couch. I'm disoriented. Where am I? I'm home… on the couch, on my knees—I think. I'm besieged, overtaken by emotions. In spite of being in Charlie's presence, I completely lose control. My mouth opens in a silent cry until air gives voice to my howl. Charlie keeps me in his tight hold.

He speaks slowly, forcefully, "Alice is alive. Your friend, Alice Brandon, is alive and is in Seattle Harbor View Hospital. She is doing fine. She broke her pelvis, but she is doing even better than expected. Do you understand, Bella?"

I swallow a gulp of air and try to get out some words, "But I saw her eyes close."

"Yes you did. Alice passed out in the limousine. It was the best thing for her. You are not in the limo now. You're in Forks with me, your dad, who you call Charlie sometimes." Is he trying to be funny or does he think I'm insane? I am insane, aren't I? It doesn't matter, because Alice is alive.

"Alive?" I need to be sure, _say it again._

"Yes, Alice is alive. Your friend, Alice Brandon, is alive." My breathing slows. Mike is dead. I don't need to ask.

"You have been having nightmares this week, Bella…" Have there been others? _Did he hear?_ "and you just woke from one." It was a dream? Yes, but it really happened.

"Bella, do you want me to let you go now?" I should say yes, I should release Charlie from this moment, but he's holding me together and it feels right. I selfishly shake my head, a small 'no.'

"Okay, I've got you kiddo." _Thank you, Daddy._ Over and over, I repeat to myself Alice is alive. I'm here in Forks. I'm home. I want to tell him that he can turn on the game, as long as he holds me like this for a few more minutes. And he does hold me. As we sit like this in silence, it takes a long time, but I feel the hole in my center fill with his kindness, his strength.

"Do your old man a favor, tell me what your name is." Yes, he's definitely checking to see if I've lost it.

"Isabella Marie Swan."

"Okay, and where are we?"

"Forks, Washington. My home." Maybe for a long time.

"That's right, your home. And what day is it, Isabella?" I really don't know, it's getting dark out again.

I look up at him and say, "I… I think… I'm okay now Dad, thank you."

"You sure?" I give him a nod.

"Let's take it slowly." He loosens his grip and I wobble on my knees, not realizing to what extent he was holding me up. Ever so gently, he turns me so I can rest myself into a seated position on the couch. I run my fingers over the couch upholstery, reassuring myself that I'm home, I'm really home.

"Stay here, I'll be right back." He heads to the kitchen, stops and turns. He looks angry and makes a chopping gesture with his hand as he speaks, "As long as I live, Isabella, I will never forgive myself for staying at the accident instead of going to the hospital with you." _Oh,_ _Dad._

"Dad, please, don't…"

"George Weber was supposed to call when…" He drags his hand over his face, and mutters, "it's not his fault… it's my fault…"

"Dad, I was fi—"

"_Do not say you were fine."_ Oh, he sounds angry again. "Damn it, Bella, for once in your life can you get mad at me? Get mad at someone?" He turns on his heels and heads into the kitchen before I can respond. I hear the refrigerator door open and several containers being placed forcefully on the counter. Pedi sits on the couch looking at me, he saw the whole thing. Silently, I ask his opinion. He shrugs in a way that says I'm kind of a push over, but he loves me anyway. The microwave pings and Dad returns with a bowl of cereal and a plate heaped with mourning party food. I can only hope…

I move to the longer couch, the one that faces the television. "Cereal? For me?" I try to sound cute and little girly.

"No, I was hoping to get you to eat something a little more substantial." Oh my. Now Edward and Dad talk alike, this is getting creepy. He places the food on the coffee table and pulls it to us as he sits next to me on the couch. "I'm only in the mood for cereal tonight," he grumbles.

I turn on the remote, glad to find it is already on ESPN. There's always a game somewhere. It puts him in a better mood, and fortunately, he allows talking during a most games—especially during commercial. And if I don't want to talk, he's okay with that too.

There is so much food on this plate, a few tablespoons worth of at least twelve different dishes. I will eat this food. I will eat it for my father and I will eat it for me. As I mentally prepare, he notices me eyeing the plate and says, "You don't have to eat all of it, Bells. Just try some different stuff and see what works." This I can do. Charlie digs into his cereal and I'm relieved to be 'Bells' again.

The green been casserole and the macaroni and cheese, the one of the two without the crust, go down easiest. I wonder if there was some huge blow out over who was bringing what—someone messed up and repeated a dish. Though the thought is amusing, I hope the duplication didn't really cause a ruckus. I take a break at the first commercial and ask, "So, you talked to Alice? She's doing well?"

He wipes his mouth on a paper towel and hands me one. "Yeah. Things sound good. Her parents are in town for a few more days. The doctor said she's healing pretty well."

"Good."

"You haven't talked to her, have you?" He knows this.

"My cell phone is dead. I don't seem to have a charger with me."

"Her number is written by the phone in the kitchen, you can call her there."

My stomach does a little flip and I now know there is more than sleep and cell phone batteries behind my lack of phone call. I'm not sure what it is. Guilt? She seemed characteristically chipper and protective at the hospital. _Was it an act?_ She should be mad. I don't know if that's it. Maybe I don't want to let her know that I'm a wreck. A part of me wants to disappear into this house and sever off all ties in my life. Start again. Start over.

I eat some turkey—I missed the turkey earlier. The ham is still too salty. A new commercial break, and in light of his disclosure, I have something to get off my chest.

"Dad, I have a confession to make."

He stops eating and turns to me, away from the TV. "What's that Bella?"

"Um… I do get mad sometimes. I got mad at Mike, a lot. But maybe not enough… and maybe a little too late."

He looks like he's contemplating, and then he fully turns his body so that he is facing me on the couch.

"Um… you are a much better judge of a person than I gave you credit for and I'm sorry." He didn't like Mike from the minute he met him. After a while, he stifled his insults only to appease me.

He nods and looks away for a moment, but doesn't change his position on the couch. _Lord, give me strength. This is harder than I thought it would be._ The game is back on, but he still looks at me.

"You see, um… I don't think I should have married him. And there, towards the end, I tried not to… but didn't try hard enough."

My father gives me a long look, surprised only for a moment, before he nods in a way that says I'm confirming his suspicions.

"Are you mad at me?"

He cocks his head from side to side, trying to determine the right words. After a sigh, he says, "Not _mad_… disappointed you didn't come to me."

"I know. I'm always trying to shield you from my silly little dramas."

"This isn't a silly little drama, Bella. And I can handle it… silly ones, big ones… I can handle it."

"Yes, I know." I know now, and I won't forget it.

"Dad, if you promise to be a little disappointed with me for not coming to you, I'll promise to be a little disappointed you didn't come to the hospital." Until he said something, I didn't realize how much I wanted him that day.

"Deal." He turns back to the TV, but I can see he's thinking about something.

"Dad… am I forgiven?"

"Yep. Me?"

"Yep."

He doesn't even wait for the next commercial break before he asks, "Is that bear from Edward?" _Whoa! Where did that come from?_

"Ah… no, it's from Angela."

"Edward called too." _What did he say? What did he say? Did he ask about me?_

"He told me about that kids' drink."

"I had some this morning. Thank you." He nods his 'you're welcome.'

"And he said the condo sale looks promising." _Thank God._ "I like that Edward character." Oh, my. My father's supreme compliment lands squarely on the shoulders of Edward Masen. There have been plenty of 'goof-balls,' 'clowns,' even a 'yahoo' early on, but 'character' is reserved for Alice, Angela, and… no, that's it. Wow.

"Ah… I think I like him too." I feel my face flush.

"Yeah, I know." What? Is it that obvious? _Oh, shit._

"Dad, I think we should probably keep this between us for a while."

"Yeah, I know."

Suddenly, I want to call Alice—I have something to say. I grab the dishes.

"I'll take those, Bella."

"No, that's okay. I'm going to call Alice."

I have a new spring to my step. Dad knows about Mike, Edward, Pedi… the world might not crumble after all.

I immediately dial the phone… it rings. I panic and hang up. What am I going to say?_ Hey, Alice I'm calling because earlier tonight I remembered the accident and it was really bad. Remember that? Remember when we both thought you were dying? Good times. So, I'm glad you're not pissed. BFFs, right? Oh, and big news, Charlie likes Edward. Laters! _

Why can't landlines have texting capabilities?

My stomach churns. _Oh, no._ Adrenalin helps me run upstairs and make it to the toilet in time to watch it all come back up. Food is so overrated. I turn on the faucet and drink several handfuls of water. I finish brushing my teeth and shut the medicine cabinet door. _Jesus._

It is not possible.

The ghost staring back at me is not I. Stringy, greasy, dull hair. Grey skin. Even my bruise is shades of grey. My eyes look dead… so sunken into blue-grey circles. The cut on my lip is indistinguishable from the other cracks. I always wanted high cheekbones, but not this way. I run my fingers over my collarbone; I can almost tuck my hands inside and hold it. When did this happen? I take a deep breath and watch my ribs and breastbone emerge from under my translucent skin; I walk my fingers up them like little steps. Pulling up my shirt, I feel my lower rib cage and suck in my stomach to see how concave it is. I'm revolted, but grateful we don't have a full-length mirror.

I stare back at the person in the mirror. Who are you? _A face only a mother could love._ But…

But my father loves me.

I feel my legs shake from under me. No, I will have only one breakdown per day and I've used up today's. I open the cabinet again and reach for the Valium. _Play hard, or go home, Bella_—I'm taking a whole one—without water, damn it!

I walk past the landing, and though I want to go to straight to bed, my father deserves a more ceremonious ending to our important night together, so I head downstairs.

It seems like only a minute later, Dad is helping back up the steps. With one hand, he holds my arm around his neck; his other hand is around my waist. I'm dragging Pedi by his foot. He keeps hitting his face on the steps.

"Sorry, Pedi," I mumble.

My head bobbles as we take each step—I'm not in complete control of my body, or my mouth.

"I wish you were still small enough to carry up these stairs."

"I'm trying to drop a few pounds."

"Not funny, Bella."

###

"Open."

I open, but don't offer my tongue, hoping it will lure Edward's finger into my mouth. It does. He places the waffle inside and he lets his finger linger in there a little long. _Should I?_ _Play hard, Bella. _With my eyes closed, I swirl my tongue around his finger. He slowly slides it out, but says nothing. _Not good._

I roll over in my bed and flip my pillow to find the cold side.

"So good, Bella," he whispers in a husky voice.

I flatten my tongue and lick the entire length of his smooth, long finger.

The covers are tangled around my legs. I kick them off and throw my arm around Pedi.

I'm on my knees before Edward Masen, The Beautiful and Kind—that should be his title. He's nude, and really hard. Huh, I never knew an erection could be so beautiful. It's a sculpture you'd find in a fine museum. I stroke one finger down the shaft. It's cold, hard—he _is_ a statue. _Am I really here? Where am I?_ Maybe I'm dreaming.

I'm cold. Where are the covers? Half asleep, I take the ends of the balled up quilt and fluff it out in front of me, letting it fall like a soft cloud over my body. I roll back over on my stomach.

My open hand fits in the space between Edward's erection and his triangle-stomach muscle. He's warm, real. My other hand strokes his upper, inner thigh as I make small circles with my thumb. I start at the base and sweep my flat tongue side-to-side until I reach his head. There's drop of him at the tip waiting for me—it's mine. I circle my tongue around and through his slit, capturing my droplet and sending a shiver through his body.

He exhales a quiet, "_Ahh_," and I have to see this. I raise my eyes to him as I continue to circle my tongue around his head. His wet lips, parted. Dark, hooded eyes, gazing into mine. The smooth planes of his chest rise and fall with each heavy breath. Brows pulled together in, what, surprise? Awe? _Am I making him have that face? _

Possessed by a sexual confidence I never knew I had, I lean forward, open my shirt, and glide his head down my sternum, between my breasts—just once. Just once and I hear my name falls from his lips like a quiet prayer, "Bella. _Oh, Bella."_

I wrap my hand around his base, and take his head in my mouth, sucking and rolling my tongue over him. The backs of soft fingers ghost down my cheek and I hear a deep moan. Edward takes my other hand in his and rubs his thumb over my knuckles. Oh, Edward, you are beautiful, kind, _and gentle._ I want to give him everything I have. If I can make him feel what he makes me feel—even half of what he makes me feel—I want to show him. I sheath my teeth with my lips and take him in as far as I can. He grunts. It's deep guttural sound that goes directly to my core. I've never felt this kind of pleasure from giving someone else pleasure.

Up and down, I work in unison with my hand, sucking, pulling, and licking. Edward murmurs, "So good, Bella. You feel so good… _Uh_."

I open my throat and take him in farther than before. His breathing is rough, ragged. He lets go of my hand and I feel both hands weaving roughly through my hair, massaging my scalp. He pulls my hair and starts to move his hips. It's so erotic to feel his excitement, his lack of control transmitting through his fingers, his hips. I keep going, increasing my pace. He pulls my hair little too hard. It grows uncomfortable. I bring my head back up a few inches, stop my movement, and pull at his hands, as a gentle message. But he doesn't stop. He holds my head tightly, his hands a vice, and thrusts me down onto him, hard. _What the fuck…?_

"That's right sweetheart, yessss, like that…"

That's Mike's voice.

Mike holds my head still and begins to thrust into me. He's fucking my mouth. I scratch at his hands but, "That's right, Bella, be rough," that's how he likes it.

I fight my instincts to bite down and instead open my throat, knowing it's the fastest way to finish him.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, _Yes!"_

The sour come of Mike Newton shoots in hot spurts down my throat. I swallow as quickly as I can, feeling him fall limp in my mouth. He collapses back onto his bed.

"_Jesus Christ, Bella!_ You still give the best head in Seattle."

I look down at the floor as I wipe the remaining come from the corner of my mouth with my fingers.

"Come on, Bella, you used to always laugh at that joke."

"I know… I just… I just don't think it's funny anymore." I can't even look at him.

He tucks himself back in his pants and sits on the edge of the bed, looking at me. I can see myself in my mind's eye, kneeling before him on my heels. I look pathetic.

"Come here, sweetheart." Mike takes my arms and pulls me up to sit on his lap. "Bella, you know that yours are the only lips that have ever been on my dick. You know that, right?"

I nod my head.

"Look at me, Bella." I do, and his face looks young and boyish in this moment. He looks like the kid in high school who followed me around and carried my books, and asked me on dates no matter how many times I turned him down. He looks like a boy, just a boy. I put my arms around his neck and remember when we first dated. He seemed so honored to be with me. Like I was special.

_Ping. _There's a sound, I look to see where it's coming from, but see nothing.

"Yours are the only lips. And in a couple of short weeks," he opens my knees and runs two fingers over my jeans, over my sex, "I am going to finally get in the tight, wet, little pussy of yours." He continues to rub me, with his whole hand, and my body responds against my will—or maybe it is my will—I don't know anymore. It's been so long since he's touched me. He continues to stroke, maybe tonight…

"I know it hasn't been easy for you, Mike…" I've given this speech so many times, it's become unoriginal, "but it really does mean a lot to me."

"No, it hasn't been easy," that's his typical response, "but, in the end, I get to marry the girl of my dreams." _Oh, he's never said that before._ "You know I love ya, Bella."

I'm sincerely moved. I lean in to kiss him, but he pulls away.

"Christ, Bella, you know I don't like to taste myself." He gives me a hard slap on my thigh, intending to be playful I'm sure, and slides me off his lap, leaving me bereft. My thigh stings, _a lot._

_Ping._

"Where are you going?" I ask as Mike takes off his shirt and tosses it in the laundry basket.

"Getting in the shower." He's cold, distant so quickly.

"Oh, okay. So we're still going out tonight, right?"

"No, not tonight." No? But it's… _when was the last time we went out? _

"You don't need to shower if we're just staying in." _Didn't you just take a shower?_ "Um… I can order a pizza or make something. How about I make us a nice dinner? It's been so long since I've seen you, hanging in is actually better than going out." He grabs a towel from the linen closet, and I follow him down the hall to the bathroom.

"I said we would do something this weekend, but I didn't say when. My plans changed. Call Alice or something." I'm confused… I thought we we're going to…

"So, _you're_ going out?" I'm just trying to understand. _Ping. _Where is that sound…?

He turns and snaps at me, "Yes, I'm going out. I'm getting together with the guys. Trust me, you'll get _plenty_ of time with me when we're married." He's being sarcastic; he's really annoyed.

"I'm sor-… sorry… I'm not trying to start a fight…"

"Bella, sweetheart" he's trying to soften, "let me… just… can you just let me be a _guy_ for a few more weeks, _please_ Bella?"

I nod, but I still have a question, I start carefully, "Um… I'm curious… please don't get mad but… since we're not going out tonight, would you like me to make reservations…"

"Jesus Christ, Bella, would you _stop nagging me!_" He slams the bathroom door in my face.

But it's my birthday.

_Ping. _

What is that sound? _Wait, that's my cell phone._

I open my eyes immediately remembering I am in my bedroom, my Forks bedroom. There is a bouquet of flowers on my bedside table—a stunningly simplistic arrangement of calla lilies and white roses. Who would…? _Could they be? _I jolt up, grab, and open the card. It reads:

_Please, please, please, please,  
please, please, please, please,  
please, please, please, call me. _

_I miss you,  
Edward_

_Holy shit! _ _Ping. _My cell phone! Charlie must have bought me a charger. I eye it behind the flowers with a new bottle of Pedialyte. I guzzle down half the bottle; I'm so parched. _Oh, thank you, purple goodness. _I grab my phone, not sure why I'm suddenly so alert. _Is it the flowers? Did I sleep well? Adrenaline?_

_Voice mailbox, Full_

_Test Messages, Full_

I'm nervous again. Where do I begin? Can I do this? _Yes Bella, you can, look at the last message._ _Start with messages. _

The most recent text is from Alice. It reads:

_Last time I'll bother you  
Worried sick-let us know you're ok-  
If no word, E is going to Forks tonight._

_-Alice Brandon  
_

Alice is the only person I know who signs her full names to text messages. _Oh, no. When was this?_ I look at the clock, 6:11; the text came in less than an hour ago. Wait, is that a.m. or p.m.? I'm so confused. _Don't freak out, Bella, just text back._

_Don't worry  
Fine—just sleepy_

_Love,  
B_

No, wait… I'll send it to both of them at the same time. But if I'm sending it to Edward, I shouldn't sign it 'love.' He didn't sign his card 'love.' So…

_Don't worry  
Fine—just sleepy_

_Thanks,  
B_

That's better.

I scroll through, find Edward's number, and send it to both of them. Big exhale. The phone rings immediately. It's Edward. _Holy shit._ I freak. _Damn it, Bella, just answer it!_ Here it goes:

"Hello. Edward?" my voice sounds so scared.

"Bella?" Oh, I missed his caramel voice.

"Hi…" I say back, not sure how to start.

"Bella, I'm coming to Forks tonight. I'll be there in a couple of hours." His words are firm, but gentle. Though I long to see him, he cannot come. Not with me in this condition.

"Please Edward, not tonight. I'll see you in a few days, at the funeral." There's a long silence on the other end of the phone.

"Bella tomorrow is the funeral."

"No, the funeral is Thursday." _It is, isn't it? _Another long silence.

His voice returns, thick with concern, "Bella, it's Wednesday night. Right now, it's Wednesday night. The funeral is tomorrow."

"Oh."

I hear some sort of struggle on the other end of the phone, and a distant voice say, "_Give it to me."_

"Bella, Bella honey, it's Alice…" _What? They're together?_ I feel a pang of jealousy, but it quickly dissipates. "Listen, Edward is going to be in Forks in a couple of hours, he's going to stay there tonight—maybe the Forks Four Seasons—and go to the funeral tomorrow. After the funeral, he's going to bring you back to Seattle, back home." I cover my mouth to hide my gasp at the word 'home,' but it's too late.

"Home?" I ask, not sure how to explain that I can't afford my condo; that I'm staying in Forks. "But… the condo…"

"_Oh, Bella_. Home to me, you're coming home to me, our apartment."

"But, Rose…"

"_Rose?" _Alice let's out a long sigh_._ "Honey, you haven't even been able to listen to your messages, have you? Rose is going to stay in her Barbie Dream House with Midge and Skipper and Ken, the whole crew. You're coming home to me." Tears well up in my eyes, and I think maybe this is why I haven't talked to Alice, to anyone. The compassion of others swells my heart until it can take no more, and it spills out of my eyes. I don't know if I'm worthy. "We've been busy, you'll see. Things are much better than when you left. Your bedroom is all ready for you."

"Thank you," is all I can manage to say for a moment. "Alice… Edward can't come here tonight. I need this night. I need to find a way to transform myself back to the world of the living." I know she understands. Though she's silent, she must be telling Edward with her eyes.

I hear him say, "_Alice, give me the phone." _ But she doesn't. _Thank you, Alice._

"Edward will stay, but you have to promise me you're going to eat something tonight." She's spoken to Charlie.

"I'm trying," I whisper.

"I know you are, Bella. Keep trying, okay?" Her voice is soft and I hear her sniffle. "Because Edward told me he prefers a woman with a juicy ass," I giggle-sob and hear in the background, "_Alice, give me the damn phone!" _but she holds out, "and, Bella he has a new funeral haircut and everything." I laugh. _Oh, Alice what would I do without you?_

"Thank you, Alice."

"You're welcome, Bella."

"Alice… I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for, honey?"

For not calling. For not taking care of you now, when you need it most. For leaving behind a mess for you to clean up. For the accident. For too much to say in this conversation.

"How are you, Alice?"

"I'm good, Bella, really good." Her voice is bright, but I don't know if I should believe her.

"Dad says the doctors are happy about your progress."

"Bella, you know me. They'll be writing about my case in medical journals for years to come. '_Patient wills her pelvis to fuse together so she can wear a decent outfit_.'" She says this like she's reading a headline. "Rose brought me a Juicy Couture sweatsuit to wear. I mean, really? Juicy Couture? Sweats? Were do I begin? Has she never seen my wardrobe?"

"Oh, I love you, Alice."

"I love you too, Bella. Now, Edward is doing his jaw-clenching thing, so I better give you back to him. Okay?"

"Okay."

"One more thing," she takes a deep breath, "Bella, you know I can't come tomorrow, right?"

"I know, my friend." We say nothing more about it. I know it kills her to stay behind, but she's saving me from her angst.

"So, I'll see you later, Bella."

"See you later, Alice."

"Bella," he's back to me. "Bella, are you sure? You're absolutely certain you don't want me there tonight?" And in that moment, I'm not sure. I want nothing more than to have Edward's arms around me, holding me to him. I look over to those flowers, the card…

"Edward, these flowers are beautiful." And then it occurs to me, I haven't ordered flowers for the funeral. I don't have anything to wear. There's so much to do, and no way I can do it all. The funeral is in what? Sixteen hours? Seventeen? I don't know. Feeling defeated, everything gets caught in my throat. "Edward, these flowers are beautiful." _Did I say that already?_ I need to get off the phone. Yesterday's breakdown was big enough for a two-day supply. I'm feeling a little bewildered, suddenly exhausted, I need to go back to bed. "I should go, I'll see you tomorrow."

"No, no, no… _wait._ Bella, Bella, stay on the phone with me, just a few minutes, okay?"

_But I'm so sleepy._

"Bella, a few minutes."

I hold onto Pedi and gather myself. "Kay." The background noise on his end of the phone changes; it's louder and has an echo.

"Edward, where are you?"

"We're taking a walk, Bella. We're taking a walk around the hospital."

"Oh, okay." I could probably use a walk. I try to think of something to say, but I have nothing. I'm empty. I want Edward to talk, to hear his voice. "Edward, can you tell me a story."

"A story? Absolutely. Um… you see there's this guy…"

"What's his name?"

"Edward Masen."

"I see a reoccurring character here." I hear him smile.

"I'm a one trick pony, Bella."

"So, tell me about Edward Masen."

"Oh, well… he got separated for a few days from this girl, and he really missed her."

"He really missed her?"

"Yes, a great deal. He was a little worried about her and had a lot to talk to her about."

"What's her name?" There's a bit of a pause.

"Hospital Socks." _Oh, I'm Hospital Socks!_

"I'm a little jealous."

"No, don't be. You have no reason to be." His voice is light, young. The background sound changes again.

"Edward, where are you?"

"We're in the chapel, Bella. It's a great place if you ever want to be alone in a hospital."

"We're alone?"

"Yes. My stories are for you, Bella. Only for you."

"Oh." _I love you, Edward._ "What did he want to talk to her about?"

"He wanted to talk to her about funerals."

"Funerals?"

"Yes, strange topic, I know. You see, he's been to a few, and he knows that some of them… the ones of people who are… who are important… can be difficult. A little surreal, even."

"He's been to a few? Whose?" There's a long silence. "Edward?"

"He's a seminary student, so he sometimes helps out his friend Reverend Cullen when he performs a funeral. Edward's been to a lot of them, but mostly people he doesn't know."

"Oh."

"Anyway, he's not sure if Hospital Socks has ever been to one—a funeral of anyone close to her. Do you know if she has?"

"Um… her Dad's friend, Harry Clearwater died. She was just a little kid, so she stayed in the church vestibule with some of the adults. But she remembers seeing her dad cry for the first time. I think it was the only time."

"And that's the only one?"

"Yes."

"Okay, okay…" I hear him processing. "So, she should know a few things. You see, she's going to be sort of the center of attention and that can be a little overwhelming. Some people are going to say some strange things to her, because they really don't know what to say. Do you think she can handle that, Bella?"

"Yes, particularly since she knows ahead of time."

"Good. So Edward's going to be there too, and he's going to want to hold her hand and sit next to her the whole time. But he understands that it probably wouldn't be good for her-for people to see that. Do you understand that, Bella?"

"Yes." _Tell me more._

"But really, if she wants him too, he'll hold her hand, because he doesn't give a fuck what people think…he only cares about her. Do you understand that, Bella?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"And even if he's sitting a few pews behind her, she'll still feel him holding her hand. Won't she?"

"Yes, she will."

"Good."

"And another thing she should know about funerals, if it gets too much, she can leave."

"She can leave?"

"Yes, yes she can…" His voice is so strong, determined. "People understand, and if they don't, fuck 'em."

"_Fuck 'em?"_ Is that a little harsh?

"Yes, Bella… fuck 'em. Say it like you mean it."

"Fuck 'em." Oh, it does feel good.

"Good girl."

"Just give me a sign and we're out of there. Understand?"

"Yes." I hear him sigh, a sound of relief.

"Good. Do you know what Edward's going to do after the funeral, Bella?" The coach voice is gone; it's soft, quiet.

"No, what is he going to do?"

"He's going to take her home, to her Seattle home. And he's going to tuck her into her bed. And she's going to have good dreams-_sweet _dreams Bella, no nightmares."

He knows.

"Alright, Bella? She's going to dream of only good things… rainbows and flowers…" I again hold back my tears. He's softly commanding me, and I'll take it, I need it right now.

"…And puppies, and April rain?"

"Yes, Bella… puppies and April rain. She's going to have good dreams tonight, too. Isn't she?"

"Yes, Edward, she is."

"And when she's awake, when she's scared or sad, she's going to let it go, she's going to let herself cry, isn't she?" _Is she? I don't know._

"Tell me she is, Bella."

"Okay, she is." _But no more than once a day, and only when she's alone, at a time and place of her choosing, and not for too long…_

"Good."

"Edward, thank you."

"Say the word, and I'll be there tonight." He's as persistent as Alice.

"Please know… please, please, please know that in so many ways, I want you here. And the offer… it fills my heart, but I think I owe Charlie one normal night with his daughter."

"I understand. And Charlie understands, too." I have to smile at their newly formed friendship.

"Are you two best buddies now?" Edward laughs a soft, musical, baritone laugh—I love the sound. Maybe they've talked even more than I know.

"He's a good guy, Bella."

"The best."

We sit in silence for a moment and he finally says, "You know, we could just stay on the phone like this all night." I giggle at the vision.

"I'd love to, but I need a shower. I'm smelly."

"I miss your smell." _Oh, I have a smell?_ I didn't know I had a smell. I wonder if I can get it back before tomorrow.

"Edward, I miss you."

"Me too. More than you know. We'll be together again soon."

"Yes, we will."

"Now, go drink your Pedialyte and get yourself to Charlie."

"Kay."

"Until tomorrow, Bella."

"Until tomorrow, Edward"

"Good night."

"Good night, Edward." It's difficult to end this call, so I don't.

"On the count of three," he says and we both laugh. "One, two…"

"Wait, are we hanging up _on_ three, or after three."

"Good question. Let's do it after three. Ready?"

"Ready."

"One, two, three." I squeeze my eyes shut and hang up the phone wondering if he did the same.

Though I should be scrambling around and panicked about tomorrow, I'm not. For the first time in a long time, I feel like myself, Isabella Swan, The Capable and Strong. I know I am loved, and not only by my father.

I strip my bed of the sheets and get a good whiff of myself—wow, off to shower.

Over and over again, I wash my hair until a lock of it squeaks between my thumb and finger. As my deep conditioner replaces healthy doses of what I stripped, I shave my already waxed legs hoping to remove the dead skin of the last few days. From head to toe, I scrub myself, washing until the warm water turns cold. But I don't care; it feels good, refreshing.

I finish drying myself when I decide it's time. _"Dear God, I know I've been avoiding you this week—a time I should have been talking to you more than even usual. I hope you're okay with it. I'm coming back though, if you'll still have me. I know, I know, you're good about forgiveness. That's the other thing I need to talk to you about. I know I'm supposed to talk to you through Jesus and priests and go to confession and whatnot, but sometimes I prefer just to talk directly to you, if that's okay. And maybe, because I keep breaking the rules, I'll stop calling myself a Catholic. I don't know. I have to think about that one for a while. Let me know what you think. I love you. Oh, and thank you for everything. There's a lot, so I'll just say thank you for everything right now. Amen._"

I cover my body in thick moisturizer, wrap my head in a towel and pull on jeans. I idly think I shouldn't get them dirty since I'll have to wear them to the funeral tomorrow, but I need to wear real clothes right now. Maybe I can wear my pjs to the funeral. What will people think? _Oh, fuck 'em._ My language is getting foul, good thing I usually don't curse—it gives me plenty of words to use for when things get really bad.

An important task remains before I can head downstairs. With great trepidation, I open that little pink case of birth control pills. I count the empty blisters of plastic, count again, and exhale. Though I don't remember taking a single pill, I'm completely up to date. Maybe those months of fear and perfectly scheduled doses etched into my subconscious and saved me. There's a lot I don't remember from this week—it's probably better that way.

I take the dirty laundry and head downstairs, meeting Charlie on his way up. He's holding a breakfast tray with a bottle of Pedialyte and plate of food. That's strange; we don't have a breakfast tray. _Oh, Charlie, you bought one for me, didn't you?_ In that moment it isn't Charlie that I want, or my father, or my dad. I want my daddy, and he is here for me. "I'm coming down."

"Good. I thought maybe we'd try scrambled eggs tonight."

"Sounds great."

As I follow him into the living room, I see a garment bag from an expensive boutique in Port Angeles hanging on the back of our front door.

"What's this?" I ask as I unzip the bag. On the hanger is a simple, refined, black wrap sweater dress. The material is luxurious—fine cashmere, I think. "Dad, when did you…"

"Angela picked it out, I hope it's alright." I'm stunned.

"It's lovely. How did you…?"

"You kept talking about it in your sleep. Oh, and I ordered the flowers too." I love this man. How could Renee ever leave him? Sue Clearwater, she might be worthy. "There's some other stuff in the bag."

In a shopping bag next to the couch, there is a new pair of shoes, conservative, simple black pumps in my size, black undergarments, and a satin jewelry travel bag. I open it to find the string of pearls Angela received for college graduation, her stud pearl earrings, and two hair combs, also adorned with a simple row of small pearls. She's thought of everything. And there's a little note, "_I'll see you in the morning. Love, Angela_."

"She's going to come over tomorrow, help you get ready." Good. I'll have time to thank her before the circus starts. Also, she's a much better make-up artist than I. Maybe she can cover the grey bruise… and lips… and face…

"Come on and eat before it gets cold."

I sit with my dad on the couch and notice he's eating cereal again—he too has lost weight. "Can I make you something to eat, Dad?"

"No, I'm just in the mood for cereal tonight."

We watch the game and I'm able to stay fully awake, alert even. During the fourth inning, I flip the laundry into the dryer, and make three more eggs, one for me, and two for him.

Dad tells me that Sue will also be over in the morning to prepare the house for a post-funeral get together. Another mourning party.

In the last inning of the game, Dad eats another egg and I have a coffee cup filled with cereal and milk. We try some of the salty dinner rolls with Mrs. Cope's delicious homemade raspberry jam, but the rolls have become stale. I come to the conclusion that I am addicted to carbohydrates.

Since the house will be filled with people tomorrow, Dad and I decide to spare feelings and get rid of the uneaten food. Fortunately, Sue had enough sense to come over and freeze most of it. The rest goes in the trash, behind the house.

Dad insists on helping me put the clean sheets on my bed. As we tuck, fold, and smooth all the wrinkles out, it occurs to me that this is our last night together. Though we see each other every few of weeks, I started to like the idea of moving back in with him, and particularly after this week, I'll miss him terribly.

"Dad, everything you've done for me this week… not just this week, everything you always do for me, I just want to say thank you and I lo-"

"I know, Bella. You don't have to say it." _But I want to._ He tosses me the last of the pillows. I fluff it and put it on my bed.

"You know too, right?" he asks. _ I do, but_ _please say it._

"Yes, of course." I give him my best attempt at a smile.

He walks over to me, puts his hands on my shoulders, looks down at me and sighs. "Bella, you are the most important thing in the world to me. You are my little girl, always will be. I don't say it enough, but I love you."

I throw my arms around him and press my cheek to his chest. "I know. I know you do, Dad. I love you, too. You'll always be my daddy." I'm a grown woman who is speaking like a child, and I simply do not care. I feel him kiss the top of my head.

"I guess it's nice to hear aloud, isn't it?"

"Yes, yes it is." I look up at him, and blurt out, "You should tell Sue, too. Tell her you love her." He has a look of utter shock. His mouth opens like he's going to deny it, but he stops, mulls it over and says, "You're right, I should. I will." _Good._

I fall asleep and wake well rested, not remembering a single bad dream.

~0~

"Almost done, Bella."

For the past hour and a half, Angela has worked her hardest at making me look like Bella again. I sit on the edge of the bathtub, holding Pedi, waiting to see the results. My hair was first flat ironed then curled. Why people do both is beyond me, but I'm not arguing. At one point, she combed my eyebrows with what looked like a little toothbrush. I've never combed my eyebrows before. They are quite thin. I didn't know they needed combing. But she brushed each up, up, up, and then swept them back down. I'm sure she found a way for them to look better.

Angela looks quite pretty today. She always looks pretty, always did. The artistic, brightly framed eye glasses have been exchanged for a conservative black-framed pair. Her navy high-collar dress would look lovely with the pearls she gave me to wear, but she wouldn't hear of me giving them back to her, "Goodness, no, Bella." Angela Weber doesn't curse. I have a gutter mouth. Though she's tried her darnedest to engage me in chitchat, I'm not much for talking this morning.

I ate an egg.

We have to leave for the funeral soon.

I don't want to go. I'm glad I'm numb.

I want to see Edward, but I'm still numb.

"This is the last part," she takes my hand, Pedi and I stand, "now, I just want you to walk through the spray." Angela pumps a little pink bottle and I walk through the mist of a light, floral, fragrance. It almost wakes me up, but not really. I wonder if I still smell like Bella or if she's trying to help me to smell like Bella. "Ready?" She's excited. I better make this good. She turns me towards the mirror.

"Wow. Angela—this is amazing. I look like myself again."

"I know, right? You look really good Bella. And you're going to do fine today. You're going to do really well."

"Thank you Angela, for everything. Picking out this dress, the make-up, Pedi, you are a very special person."

"It's nothing. You're my friend, Bella. I care about you." She hugs me warmly. "Okay, your suitcase is packed for later. And here," she places a small clutch bag on the vanity, "I packed a purse for you… and… well, I guess that's it. I'll give you some privacy."

"Thanks, I'll be down in a sec."

Angela leaves and I turn back to stare at the woman in the mirror. "Hi. I don't know who you are, but you're doing a decent impersonation of Bella Swan, much more so than the lady I saw in there last night." My hair falls in soft curls around my shoulders. I can't hide my bruise behind my hair, the combs expose my face, but Angela's done a good job of hiding it. It's definitely there, but more of a shadow than a bruise. Huh, she used a lot of makeup to make me look like I'm wearing very little makeup. I can't hide my dead eyes, but the circles are hidden, and the three shades of blush make me look I have some color, some blood running through my veins.

Yes, blood in my veins. Yes, that's it—I look alive, or an impersonation of the living. Like a corpse with expertly applied mortician makeup to fool people into believing I'm sleeping instead of dead. I'm a walking corpse.

Mike is a real corpse. Is Mike having… is this an open casket funeral? I can't remember. Oh, God, no. Please, not an open casket—I can't take that. _Fuck, is it?_ I can't remember. _Think, Bella._ I don't want to see him again—not like that. Not in any way. Please, please, not an open casket_. Blue eyes turn black. Blood pours from his nose._ No, Mrs. Newton wouldn't want that. Wait, I have to see Mrs. Newton—probably sit with her all day. I grasp the edges of the vanity noticing that the expression, 'white knuckles' has an actual reference. I want to fall down this sink drain. Oh, Jesus… I can't… my chest… my stomach. I'm going to be sick. No, no, no. _Pull it together, Bella!_

I sit on the edge of the tub and breathe through a little opening in my pressed lips, like sucking air through a straw. I cannot throw up. I will never be able to reapply this nude lip liner. It's nude… but still…

Okay, I can do this. I look over at Pedi; he gives me a confident nod. He has faith in me. _I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me._ _I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. I can do all things through Christ—_and Valium_-who strengthen me._

I take a Valium, wrap it in a piece of toilet paper and use my fist as sledgehammer, giving it two strong thumps. The pill breaks into five jagged, little pieces. I take the largest piece, still less than half a pill, and wrap the rest back up to put in my purse.

_Oh, Angela... _she's packed my purse with my rosary, mints, tissues, lip-gloss, and a pack of cigarettes… you bad girl, Angela. I quickly remember the weekend in high school that we spent teaching ourselves how to blow cigarette smoke rings. It's the only time I've ever smoked—thankfully, a failed attempt.

I look to Pedi and he gives me two paws up, he has no thumbs. Just the knowledge that the Valium is in my system brings me back to Earth. I turn to the mirror, "Alright Corpse Bride, this is it. You are a child of God, who loves you. And of Charlie Swan, who also loves you. Today you are Isabella Swan, The Capable and Strong. _Let's do this._"

###

"Mr. Masen, with tax, your bill comes to $74.63."

I hand her my credit card and look around the hotel lobby wondering how many of these people are in town for the funeral. Bella's bedroom light went off a little after 11:00. I hope she had a restful sleep. It's going to be a long day.

"Here you go ," she gives me a friendly, small town smile as she hands me back my credit card and receipt. "We hope you come again soon."

* * *

A/N

Dear Readers, I am going to attempt a regular update schedule of every other Saturday with a teaser on the off Saturdays. Hence, for as long as my beta and I can, you will be hearing from me each weekend.

If you are wondering what a Priest's Dress Cassock looks like, think of the character Neo in _The Matrix_. It was the basis of his costume. Mmmm.

So, as you know, I'm new at this and um…new at writing lemons. Writing groans, grunts, and moans has been an interesting learning experience. Sometime I read "_Augh_" and I think _hot,_ other times I read it and I think _pirate_. So…what are your favorite 'sex sounds' to read?

Love to know what you think.

Regards,

Liz


	6. Grant them Rest

T**hank you so much for reading, reviewing, and spreading the word about this story.**

**A big hello to all of my LTT/LTR (Letters to Twilight/Rob) friends; I appreciate your friendship, support, and patience.**

**Thanks to Team SGMR: orangeapeal, robsjenn, Sunshine, and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady.**

**Here we go…**

* * *

Chapter Six

Grant them Rest

_Father in Heaven, this is the big day. It's a hurdle she can overcome and put behind her, or she can stumble and be left scarred. Please help me to find my patience, because I'd really like to kidnap her. Help me to remove my ego today so that I may be for her whatever she needs me to be. Her strength. Her friend._

In the far end of the church parking lot, I sit in my car listening to Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young's _Helplessly Hoping_.

_Wordlessly watching  
He waits by the window  
And wonders  
At the empty place inside  
Heartlessly helping himself to her bad dreams..._

I'm done trying to find a song that doesn't make me think of Bella. All songs are about Bella. My fingers slowly drum on the steering wheel as I listen to the soothing harmony that contrasts with the discord that is my mind, jumbled with insecurity and longing. Waiting, wanting. _Damn, this song is depressing._ I hit 'shuffle,' and my iPod lands on Lady GaGa's, _Bad Romance._ All songs are about Bella. Some songs, however, are about Bella and Mike.

I repeat the roadmap for the day, the five-inning game: Viewing, Funeral, Burial, Reception—I hope at the Newton's so we won't stay long, and Home. We can do this.

Charlie's police car turns down at the intersection and heads towards the church parking lot. A quick look in the mirror, and the last review of my things to do list:

1—Hotel? Check.

Even Alice agreed I should come here last night.

2—Handkerchiefs? Check.

One in breast pocket, one in pants pocket, seven in glove box.

3—Playlists for ride home? Check

Classic, Classic Rock, Alternative, Folk, Dance Music, but I doubt that one will come into use.

4—Spent a little 'private time' this morning so I wouldn't get hard the minute I laid eyes on her? Check

Charlie pulls into the parking lot and I watch as two women get out of the car. One looks to be about Charlie's age. Is it Bella's mother? No, Alice said Bella's mother is out of the picture. She doesn't look like Bella, but might be a relative of some sort. The second is a younger woman—probably Bella's age—wearing a conservative navy blue dress, a good funeral dress. She instantly goes for Bella's door. I like her. I'm glad she's here for Bella. God, want to be Blue Dress Girl.

There she is.

Bella's feet touch the pavement and she carefully pulls herself from the car with the help of Blue Dress Girl. Blocked by a screen created by Relative Lady, Blue Dress Girl, and now Charlie, I can't quite see Bella yet. She's holding something white, a sweater? A brief glimpse of her hand, as she touches her hair, pulls at her dress, she's self-conscious, and she's fidgeting._ Bella, don't worry about how you look. _

I've soldered myself to this car, promising not to leap up and attack the minute I see her. She needs time to acclimate, get inside without a bunch of people swarming her. She certainly doesn't need town suspicions about me. Blue Dress Girl puts the white thing, a teddy bear, back in the car. A stuffed animal, of course, why didn't I think of getting her a stuffed animal? Idiot.

As the foursome walk to the church, I can finally see her, all of her. _Oh, Bella._ Oh, my dear girl. My baby. Her face is confident, chin forward, her head held high, but her body gives her away—so fragile. She's thinner. _Much thinner._ How is that possible in just a few days? They slow as they approach the door. Atta boy, Charlie, put your arm around her, that's what she needs. Good, Blue Dress Girl, take her hand, yes, just like that, take her hand. I want that to be my arm, my hand.

Right before entering the church, I leap out of the car, fuck the soldering. "Bella!"I call from my car before she disappears. Bella stops and scans the parking lot. She turns and sees me. Her small, shy smile emerges across her gaunt face, and she gives me a tiny wave. _Yes, I'm here for you, Bella._ I reciprocate by waving a single finger. And then she's gone.

Filled with my concern for her, I vow to convalesce her, protect her, and chase her nightmares away. I will feed her—turn her into my little butterball Bella. I will be anything she wants me to be. Fuck, I'd be a rodeo clown if she asked me.

My cell phone vibrates. No surprise, it's Alice.

E-  
You promised you'd call as soon  
as you saw her.  
Well?  
-Alice Brandon

_How does she know I've seen her? _

I begin my text:

Just saw her.

_What do I write?_ I'm going for the fib. What Alice doesn't know won't hurt her.

I just saw her.  
She looks good.  
-E

An immediate response:

LIAR!  
-Alice Brandon

Before I can figure out my next message, Alice sends another:

Where's my photo?  
-Alice Brandon

_Damn it._

I told you  
NO PHOTOS!  
-E

Grrrrrrrr  
Call me before the gravesite.  
-Alice Brandon

I turn off my phone and head into the church. The lobby is filling with early birds. Fortunately, the church doors are closed. Reverend Weber knows enough to give the family some time alone.

Let's see, we have four women in designer dresses… they are from Seattle. Charlie's colleagues from the station, they are probably coming in shifts. Oh, and those folks over there, gregarious, expressive, those are teachers. The two men are wearing ill-fitting suits in shades of brown, the best they can do on a small town teacher's salary. The woman with the big earrings and flowing print skirt teaches a language, maybe English… no a language.

About ten children, boys and girls, maybe in middle school, scurry in and run up a small staircase in the corner of the lobby that must lead to a balcony. This is bad news. A children's choir is always bad news. They will either be very bad, which will be painful; or very good, which will be more painful. I hope they're bad.

The double doors open to the church and people rush in. _Relax folks; there's plenty of funeral for everyone. _I see Bella up at the front with her back turned to us. She's with the Newtons, Charlie, and Blue Dress Girl. I see she's holding her hands in front of her, probably twisting that damn ring. I get in line behind the teachers and several more people enter and join the line behind me. This is probably the biggest tragedy this town has ever seen, it even made the Seattle papers. I'm sure this church will be standing room only by the time the service begins.

And oh, what a church it is, beautiful in its simplicity, with an altar designed so people can see better, not to demonstrate power. This is God's house. 'For where two or three are gathered together in My name, there am I in the midst of them.' Yes, you are here, God. I might have had a church like this of my own. A congregation of people I could care for. I would have liked that.

The reverend places his hand on Bella's arm, says a few words to Mrs. Newton, and stands aside, allowing people to pay their respects. Most go right to Bella; some first visit the closed casket and look at the framed photographs of Mike. The casket not only cost the price of a small car, with it sleek body and metallic silver coating, it looks like a car—not just any car, my car.

I look over to abundance of flowers that fill this church with spring perfume. Carlisle and Esme's, Alice's, even my own add to this interior meadow, to Bella's wishes. _These are for you, Bella, our sympathy for you._

I can't distract myself any longer. I'm getting close to her. My heart is thumping in my chest. I'm sure everyone in line can hear it. My mouth is dry, but my palms wet. Bella wears her counterfeit smile and doesn't hug anyone fully. She doesn't want to be touched. Though I try to catch her eye, she gives her full attention to whomever she's speaking. But I think she knows I'm here. She senses me. I'm next. _Lord, help me not __screw up._

"Hi," I say as I take her small, cold hands in mine. I want to warm her.

"Hi."

Our conversation is only for us, so I lean down, absorbing her smell, touching my cheek to cheek, and whisper in her ear, "You look pretty, Bella."

Hmmm, I had four days to figure out what to say to her, and that's the best I can do? Brilliant.

Looking down at our hands, her smile grows sad, and after a moment she rises to her toes and quickly whispers, "I know I don't look pretty, but I really, really needed to hear you say that, so thank you." She knocks me off guard, so concealing in one moment and completely revealing in the next.

Bella places her hands on my chest and continues, "_You_ look pretty. I like your haircut and your suit. It's very spiffy." Her hands glide down my lapels and my whole body sings at her touch. I grab her hands as they fall away from me and stoke her knuckles with my thumbs.

"You _are_ pretty, _always_. Now, tell me how you're holding up." She purses her lips together and gives a confidant nod, and I continue in her ear, "Anyone say anything weird yet?"

"Yes, our Biology teacher, Mr. Banner, said that Mike's reserving me a seat at the big lab table in the sky."

"Priceless. Okay, here's our game: let's track who can say the strangest things. So far, Banner is in the lead. We'll pick the winner later, maybe get them a prize."

"Got it. Any other advice?"

"Yes, there's a reception after the funeral?"

"Reception? That's a much better name for it. I've been calling it a mourning party," she blinks up at me.

_Damn, you are cute. _I stop myself from kissing her head.

"Where's the mourning party?" I ask, still hopeful it's at the Newtons.

"It's back at my house." _Shit_

"Great. Okay, when you want to get rid of people, thank them for coming and invite them to the reception. Or the mourning party, your choice."

"Got it."

I could stand here sharing our private conversation all day, but I'm causing a bottleneck and should move on.

"Bella, I'll be sitting right there." I look two rows behind hers and she follows my eyes.

"Say the word, Bella. I can keep my car running through the service so it's ready to go." She looks down at our hands, and for a second I think she'll take me up on my offer.

"It's good to know," she says, then she raises her placid face, "but I'm going to be fine." I give her hands a last squeeze and we lock eyes before I move on.

The Newtons are in a conversation with the women from Seattle, so I skip over them and go to Charlie. He and I shake hands, but there's no need to say anything. We understand each other and there will be more time to talk later. I meet Blue Dress Girl, Angela Weber, and she is as nice as she appeared. As far as she's concerned, as far as everyone is concerned, I'm the nice seminary student who met everyone at the hospital. That's the role I'm willing to play. I can't openly care for Bella, but I'm glad there are people who can.

I settle into my pew and watch. Person after person goes to Bella to say a few words and then crumble in her company._ She_ is _their_ comfort, _their_ strength. Bella even provides the tissues. _How about you Bella? How about they comfort you?_ I regret giving her new ways to remove herself from this experience. Already too adept at disappearing, I should have given her tools for falling apart. _No, no, she is falling apart._ Charlie's stories, as brief as they were, painted a clear picture of her torment. I'll shepherd her through this day and be there to pick up the pieces later.

Three men enter in suits too shiny for my taste. They're dressed alike, clearly drove in together, they are about the right age… I think we have Mike Newton's best buds here. _Well, hello gentlemen. I think I'll have a few words to say to you before this day is through._ _Do you think it might have been a good idea to tell your buddy he was fucking up? Maybe let Bella know what she was walking into? They were together long enough, you must have befriended her, too. _The leader stands almost a full head above the others. Swarthy, broad shoulders, a thick neck—_you think you're tough, don't you? I can take you… and your friends._ _Ah, what am I doing?_ _Damn it. _

_Lord, I sit in your house without temperance. Help me to stop ripping apart everyone I see. Let me be like Bella, and Angela in the blue dress. Let me make you proud. _

Focusing back on Bella, I keep watch, wait, ready for the moment she looks to me for rescuing from the charade we call a funeral. But I know she won't. She's a soldier, stoic. For the next several people to come through, I see Bella quickly thank them and invite them to the reception. She's getting tired. The service is supposed to start soon, but the line for the viewing is still out the door. I catch Charlie's eye as he stands to the side talking to Relative Lady, he looks back to Bella and sees what I see. Good Charlie, make her sit down. Wait, where's he going? Ok, nice work Reverend Weber, bottles of water on hand. Drink a little something, Bella, you'll feel better.

Now is the best time to find a restroom. Though Bella sits with her back to me, as soon as I stand, she twists around and meets my eyes. She sensed my movement. _That's right, Bella, we're connected—you feel me holding your hand, don't you?_ I gesture to her that I'll be right back, which is a very awkward thing to gesture, but she understands and gives me a small, but real, smile. _Yes, Bella, I'm here for you._

I find the restroom in the lobby, right outside of the first set of double doors. Discovering I'm alone, I give myself a little mirror pep talk. Charlie, Angela in the blue dress, Relative Lady, me, and God—we're all here today playing for Team Bella. I text Alice:

Viewing hour is almost over,  
ending the first inning.  
No Rosalie yet.  
-E

Rose changed her mind.  
'I don't like funerals.'  
-Alice Brandon

_Well join the club, Rose._ My phone buzzes again:

P.S.

As previously discussed,  
Your baseball analogies mean  
NOTHING to me.  
-Alice Brandon

I have a vision of taking Alice and Bella to a Mariner's game. Warm spring, this fall behind us, Bella and I trying to teach Alice the rules of this simple game as Alice mocks us at every turn. I can see Bella; it's lucid—her ponytail cascading through her baseball cap, down her back. Her skin flushed by her fits of guilt-free laughter. I yearn to see Bella pink, to feel her warm, to hear her laugh. I will make this happen.

I exit to find some sort of commotion happening by the other set of doors. There's a woman, loud, drunk—I think, woman who is being ushered out by a man.

"Get your handssoff me," she's slurring her words. S_he's definitely drunk._

"Come on, let me get you home." The way he's trying to be careful with her, he must be a friend or boyfriend. Clumsily, she tries to push past him and into the church. Oh, this is not good. She wants in and she's going to make a scene. I should help this guy out; Team Bella to the rescue.

Before I can take a step, she sees me and staggers my way. Long straight platinum blonde hair, smeared red lipstick, a short, tight black dress more appropriate for a nightclub than a funeral, this woman is a mess. Her splotchy tanned skin is unnatural for Forks… unnatural for October… just plain unnatural. Teetering on her too high heels, she makes her way to me. She's too close. I'm already suffocating.

"Hi handsome," she says, trying to sound sexy, but smelling of whiskey, cloying perfume, and desperation. She's vile. "So which side are you sitting on, the bride's or the groom's?" I say nothing, just turn my head and take a few steps back. But she pushes forward.

"You must be here for the bride. If you were Mikey's friend, I would have met you by now." _Hello there, Lauren Mallory._

Another step back and I'm up against the wall; she leans into me with her rock-solid breasts. "Unless… he was hiding you from me, because you are one good looking man." Her fingers, tipped with scarlet nails, drag over my lapels, sullying the recent memory of Bella's touch. I plunge my hands in my pockets to stop myself from touching her, from pushing her away.

I step to the side, but she moves with me.

"What? Are you here for the bride?" she's still lilting her voice, still trying to sound seductive. The church organ blows the first soft notes of Gabriel Faure's _Requiem,_ and I hope it obscures this conversation from curious ears.

For a moment I look down at her, and for the first time, we meet eyes. Her pouty lips and batting lashes are begging me. Desperate for a reaction, for some attention, Lauren glides her fingertip in an s-curve down my tie. She's someone's daughter, could be someone's sister. At one time, a pretty girl, but something went terribly wrong. She's pathetic, really. I have nothing to say to her. _God, remember the request for immediate transport, now would be a good time. _

"Oh, I see. Of course, you're here for _Bel-la," _she mocks her name._ "_Poor, sweet, _Bel-la._ Everyone's here for _Bel-la_." Lauren curses Bella's name with her bitter mouth, and though I've never laid my hands on a women in anger, I'm being pushed to my limit. My disgust for her blends with my anger for Mike, concocting rage that shoots through body. "Aren't you going to say anything? Cat got your tongue?" _Transport, please! _"Whatssa matter sexy, don't you like me?"

"No. Not particularly."

Lauren Mallory tips over the edge.

"Well, who the FUCK are you?" she yells, pushing off of me with both hands and stumbling back. "_You don't know me_," she seethes. I give her friend a look to say 'get her the fuck out of here,' but he's already trying, she waves her arms to release from his hold. "Get your hands off of me!" The organ plays louder, I pray, drowning this out.

"He said he loved _me_! He was going to marry _me_! Who's here for _me_?" She points her at her own chest so forcefully with her dagger nail, that she draws a little blood on her last words.

"Come on, Lauren, it's alright," he walks her out as she begins to bawl. Turning back to me he says, "Listen, man… she's not always… she's really…"

I raise my hand and shake my head. I don't need apologizes, or explanations, or any more details about the victims Mike left in his wake.

I take a few cleansing breaths and turn to enter the church. And that's when I see her.

Mrs. Newton stands just a few feet from me. I see her mouth agape, and her round, blue eyes, wide, in her pallid face. She saw. She heard.

_Good. I hope you didn't miss a word; that's what you get for treating Bella like shit._ I turn away from her and enter the church. _Reap what you sow, bitch._

I'm a few steps in when I hear a voice so forceful, it shakes my foundation, '_Edward, stop!' _I don't know if it's God, Carlisle, my father, or my own conscience, but the voice freezes me and brings me back to myself, to the Edward I want to be. I return to her and find she's in the same position as I left her, a pillar of salt.

"Mrs. Newton… " _What do I say?_ "Mrs. Newton, can I help you? Can I get Mr. Newton for you?"

Stupefied, she looks up at me. "What's your name, young man?" Good Lord, it's like a Mack truck hit her.

"It's Edward, Mrs. Newton."

"Yes… Edward. I need some air, please."

"Yes, of course." I offer my arm, she takes it, and we walk slowly outside. This boisterous woman who could command a room of men twice her size with one look or sound is transformed into an elderly, feeble lady.

I bring her to the bench a few yards from the entrance and carefully set her down. Kneeling in front of her, my handkerchief at the ready, I ask, "Mrs. Newton can I get you something? A glass of water? Would you like me to find Mr. Newton?"

Mrs. Newton slowly lifts her head to meet my gaze and asks in her quiet voice, "He…?" I take a moment to find the right words. After a week of hoping for this opportunity, that I naively thought would be gratifying, I can't bring myself to tell her.

"He…? Not _Bella_?" She asks again, imploring me, but her face says she does not want the truth.

I close my eyes protecting her from my hatred for her son. He likely told her the truth, just changed the players, casting Bella as the adulterer. The bitterness she had for Bella mirrors my own for Mike. Mrs. Newton and I are no different. No, that's not true, I had Bella to stop me from inflicting pain.

I nod and quietly say, "Not Bella."

"Good Lord. What have I done?" It's not a rhetorical question or a question for God. She's asking me, and I cannot tell her.

"Margaret? I've been looking everywhere for you. We're about to start." Mr. Newton stills when he takes in the vision of his wife. "Margaret…?"

I stand and leave them in peace, praying God will give them guidance.

Before I reach the door, I hear Mrs. Newton's wail cut through the air.

Angela is in the lobby, awaiting information to give her father. I tell her that we'll need to wait before starting the service. The Newtons need some time.

I return to my seat and wait for Bella to turn to me, but she doesn't.

~0~

"_It is done. I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. To him that is thirsty I will give without cost from the spring of the water of life." _

_Good job, Ms. Goff._ I always have to stop myself from applauding in church. _You read that nicely, and you kept it together even though you almost lost it at the end there._

Alright Bella, we're nearing the end, and so far, we're hanging in there. All we have left is the sacrament, gravesite burial, reception, and home. Reverend Weber begins the Eucharistic Prayer and my pride for Bella swells. This is for her. This is her one small request and it is being granted. I wish I could see her face.

"_Take this, all of you, and drink from it: this is the cup of my blood, the blood of the new and everlasting covenant. It will be shed for you and for all so that sins may be forgiven."_

Reverend Weber prepares the bread and wine to bring to the family. The music begins and the angelic voice of a young boy floats above us_. Oh, no._ It would have to be, wouldn't it? Faure's Third Movement, _Pie Jesu_, accompanies the Holy Sacrament.

_How did I miss this during the funeral planning?_ I could have sworn it would be _Amazing Grace._ I can do _Amazing Grace_. I'm fully inoculated against _Amazing Grace_… but this… this aria haunts me. The boy's voice is clean, innocent, and so young. The familiar crescendo fills the sanctuary. Fuck, I'm sweating, choking. I loosen my tie. _Hold it together you pussy—don't cry._ My chest is too tight to take a full breath. I need air. I can't leave… this is Bella's moment. _Think of Bella, Edward. _

Reverend Weber begins to give communion to Mr. Newton. _How are you going to play this George? Bread dipped in wine or given separately? You hold the chalice? Give it to them? Fuck, this music…_ my fingers and toes are tingling. I'm light headed. Mr. Newton finishes the bread and takes the chalice from Reverend Weber. _Pie Jesu_ begins again-this time as a duet, soprano and tenor. _Jesus, don't they know any other songs?_

Bella suddenly stands. She can't take it either. This is it. _It's always the music, isn't it Bella?_ I move past the people in my pew, and hurry up the far aisle, ready to grab her. I stand at the end of her pew, look to her, and offer my hand. Let's go, Bella. _Come on—now, you and me. Let's get out of here._ She looks at me, stunned, then to Reverend Weber, to the back of the church and back to me again. With the appearance of a caged, terrified animal, she suddenly drops to her knees in prayer. _Fuck, what's happening?_

George comes to her with the chalice of wine. _Whatever you do, don't hand it to her!_ Can't you see she's freaking out? Look at her shaking. _Lord, God in Heaven, help her… help me._ His eyes shift from Angela, to me, and then back to Bella. Oh, thank God, he holds the chalice for her, bringing to her lips. Wait, she refuses, shaking her head. She drops her head to her clasped hands. _That's alright, Bella, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do._ Murmurs spreads like a disease throughout the congregation. _Fuck 'em, Bella_. _Don't listen._ Angela wraps her arms around her and pulls Bella into her. _Fuck, that should be me._ I try to take a step towards her, to come into her pew, but my legs, they're so weak. I need to lean against the wall for support. I'm dizzy. Translucent blue dots float in and out of vision. _Don't you dare faint—you mother fucking pussy_. _Pull it together!_

_God, I don't know why, but this is… this is just too much._ I quiet my mind, and it comes to me,Isaiah 41:10, '_Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.'_

_Yes, Lord, you will uphold me. Please uphold me long enough to get my ass to the lobby._ I look back to Bella, buried in Angela's neck, one last time. There's nothing I can do for her. I'm worthless, impotent.

As the members of the congregation stand to line up for communion, I snake my way along the wall to the lobby.

I open the door to the outside and take a few breaths. _That's all I needed, a little air._ It must have been too warm in there, too many people. I drank too much coffee this morning. Again I open the door letting the cool air hit my face and fill my lungs. The music ends as the last of the mourners return to their seats. Bella's body is still folded in prayer. The reverend says a few words and I hear Fuer's, _In Paradisum_. _Thank God, we're nearing the end._ Oh, those children singing with bright, pure voices in minor keys. Those children need to find some other hobbies; they are spending far too much time in choir practice. _Yes, that's all I needed, some fresh air._

I watch Mike's friends and two teachers serve as the pallbearers. Mr. Newton stands to join them, but Reverend Weber halts him by putting a firm hand on his shoulder.

Someone should always stop a close family member from jumping into that position, no matter how young, or determined, or stupid they might be.

First the Newtons, then Bella flanked by Charlie and Angela, follow the casket as it is carried down the center aisle. I help a deacon secure the doors open for their exit. At least I can make myself useful somehow. As they approach, I watch Bella's eyes drift to the floor. Using Charlie for support, she wraps both her arms around his one. _Please look up, Bella._ _Please, please give me something. _Just then her eyes, her black, lost eyes meet mine and she subtly shakes her head. _What does that mean, Bella? I swear I will respond to your message—but I have no fucking idea what your message is._ She passes me. I have no response.

I get into my car and guzzle down a bottle of water, preparing myself for what I know to be the most difficult hurdle—the burial. As I watch the Newtons get into a limousine and the others get into Charlie's car, I text Alice to let her know we're headed to the gravesite and start my car. My phone rings, and before I can say, 'hello,', Alice begins:

"Edward, what do you mean you can't go to the gravesite? Who are you now, _Rose_?"

"What? Alice… no. Wait, what are you talking about?"

"You just sent me a text saying you can't go to the gravesite."

"_I did?_ No, that was a mistake. Of course I'm going."

"Edward, what's wrong?" Her voice is anxious. "Did something happen?" I clear my throat, trying to find my voice again.

"No, nothing is wrong. The service is over and we're heading to the gravesite."

"How bad was it?"

"It was… okay for the most part. I don't know… it…. it was a funeral." I don't know what to tell her. I've been to so many funerals after which I could recount each moment, but this one is already turning into a blur.

"Did she fall apart? Did she cry?" _Oh, God. Must you know every detail, Alice?_

"Ah… no, I don't think she cried at all."

"Did you?"

"What? No, of course not. Why would I cry?"

"I don't know. You sound… you sound different, Edward." I clear my throat again to kill the frog.

"I'm fine, really. Listen, I have to get into the funeral procession, I'll call later."

"Edward… take care of yourself, okay?"

"Um… ok. I'll talk to you later, Alice. Bye."

"Bye."

~0~

"_The lord is my shepherd, I shall not want."_

Mike lies in his casket, suspended above his grave. His widow, my love, sits with him in her white folding chair next to his parents. Most people are standing as they listen to Reverend Weber's final words.

"_He makes me to lie down in green pastures: he leads me beside the still waters."_

I'm leaning against a tree several yards away from the crowd, but still close enough to keep my eye on her.

"_He restores my soul: he leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake."_

Bella, slumped in her chair and playing with a lock of her hair as she stares at the casket, appears completely bewildered. _It's alright, Bella, I'm not really here either. _

"_Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil:  
for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me."_

Bella looks over and stares at me for a long while. She cocks her head to the side as if I'm a curious artifact and she doesn't know what to make of me. _What are you trying to decide, Bella? _

"_Thou prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies:  
You have anointed my head with oil; my cup runneth over."_

I give her a small wave with my finger. Just when I think I see a small smile emerge, the wind blows her chestnut locks across her face concealing my view. When she pulls her hair away, she's looking at her husband again. _Are you still in love with him, Bella?_

"_Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life:  
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever."_

Angela passes out red roses to be placed on the casket by the mourners before they depart. The first to approach the casket, Bella, simply hovers her hand about the casket until the rose falls from her fingers. Charlie walks with her away from the gravesite.

When the last mourner is gone, I approach the casket with my flower and silent message. '_Mike, I pray you find a peaceful rest in God's home. I pray God helps me to reconcile the hatred I have for you. May all of those left in your aftermath find serenity. But, you should know, I am irrevocably in love with your widow. I will do whatever I can to remedy the damage you've done to her. And that is my only gift to you.' _

Placing the rose carefully so that it doesn't slip off, I cement my promise.

At the bottom of the hill, I see Charlie's parked car. I don't know where everyone is, but Bella must be coming back here, so I'll wait.

"Hey, Edward," Angela calls from down the path of cars, she and Relative Lady approach. "Bella and Charlie are talking to the Newtons," _oh, boy_, "and Charlie thought you might be able to give us a lift to the house. Folks are going to be there soon, and we have to set up."

"Sure, no problem. My car is right down here." Yes, this is the perfect task for a nice seminary student Bella met at the hospital.

We get back to the house and Team Bella, sans Charlie, work to set out the food and drinks. I learn that Relative Lady isn't a relative at all, but Charlie's friend, Sue.

_Where are they? How much could they have to say to one another? _Every time the door opens, and there is a lot of door opening, my heart skips a beat. _Come back to me, Bella._ In just a few hours, we could be back in Seattle.

"Edward, can you help me with this ice?" Sue calls from the kitchen, and I'm pulled away from my door watch.

I pull several ten-pound bags of ice from the freezer. They have semi-melted and refroze into solid pillars. Using an ice pick, I quickly stab at the blocks chipping away cube by cube until they're fractured enough to put in coolers. I need this. I need to be physical right now. _Stab. Stab. Stab._

"Watch out, I got this one," Charlie pushes his way past me and grabs a bag. _They're home. Where's Bella?_ He hurls a bag into the kitchen sink with such force it shakes the house. He lifts it again, above his head, and slams it down. _Thud!_ He's beyond fury.

"_Charlie?"_ Sue's shocked. But he doesn't stop. He lifts it again. _Thud! _The bag breaks sending shards of ice everywhere. _Where's Bella?_

"Edward," he orders, holding out his hands, and I toss him another bag. _Thud! Thud! _Shards of ice fly. "Another…"

But Sue stops me, "Charlie, Charlie," and fearlessly approaches him, "what happened? Where's Bella?"

Charlie leans over the sink shaking his head, catching his breath. "Bella went to her room. She wants you to get her in twenty minutes. She's afraid she'll fall asleep." This is a specific request for Sue. Maybe I shouldn't be upstairs with a house full of people. I look at my watch to see the precise time I will be able to see Bella again.

"Charlie, tell us what happened. What did they want to talk to you about?" Sue asks him in a sympathetic, calm tone.

He continues to shake his head, "Later." _You hate him too, don't you Charlie? Yeah, let's __hate him together. _

The longest nineteen minutes of my life ticks by at a torturous pace. Sue and Angela are debating the benefits of percolated coffee over automatic drip, and I decide it's time to make my escape up the steps. If caught, I'll use the upstairs bathroom as an excuse.

I tap on the door and hear Bella yell, "Just a minute, Sue." When the door opens, Bella greets me with surprised eyes.

"Oh… Edward. Hi. Sorry, I was expecting Sue." She pulls at the v-neck of her dress, trying to conceal the small bit of revealed flesh. Her pink tongue slides over the cut on her lip. I think she's disappointed I'm here.

"Yeah, I know you asked for Sue. I thought I'd come up and get you. I hope that's okay."

"Um… sure." Bella looks everywhere but in my eyes and hides her bottom lip under her teeth. With my arm in the doorframe, I'm blocking her exit, but I don't care. I want to talk to her.

"What was that banging I heard?" Bella rubs her hand along her collarbone, covering her chest, curving her shoulders inward. I notice that it is not I who blocks Bella in; it's she who blocks me out. I try to see past her, into the room where she sleeps, dreams.

"Um… Charlie and I put some ice in the cooler."

"Oh." I notice the flowers on her bedside table, and the teddy bear on her bed, but Bella steps in the small opening of the door to block my view.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. I just got tired there for a few minutes. I think I'm going to make some coffee, that should perk me up." She wraps her arms around herself, one across her chest to her shoulder and the other around her waist. She feels naked.

"I just made a pot."

"Oh, okay. Good."

"You holding up okay?"

"Yeah." I wait for her to say more, but she doesn't.

"For a minute there, during the service, I thought you might want to leave."

"Yeah. I know," she waves her hand dismissively. "I'm not sure what that was about. I guess I sort of got freaked out for a minute."

"Yeah, like I said, funerals can be surreal sometimes."

"Yep." _Why? Why is this happening?_

"Well… um… if you want to go downstairs…" my voice trails off and I step to the side to let her through the doorway.

She doesn't take a step, but meets my eyes and asks, "Edward, did you talk to… did you talk to the Newtons at the funeral?"

"A little bit."

"Oh. Because they wanted to talk to me about the wedding… the cancellation."

"I thought so."

"You did?" She's surprised, suspicious.

"Yes… um… after the burial… you and Charlie… I thought maybe that's why you were talking to them." _Fuck, I sound defensive. What did I do wrong?_ She nods and plays with her pearl necklace. I'm curious, I shouldn't, but I push just a bit farther.

"How did it go?"

Bella shrugs, and then says definitively, "Fine." I wait, but she gives nothing more away. _That's all? That's all you're going to give me?_ "I should get downstairs now."

"Sure."

I step aside and let her lead the way. When I begin to follow, she stops me by coolly saying, "Stay here for a few minutes. People shouldn't see us coming down together."

"Sure. No problem."

The crowd downstairs comes alive with Bella's entrance.

I sit on the steps and bury my head in my hands. _What am I doing here?_ I met this girl five days ago. FIVE DAYS. I'm just a 'nice seminary student who met her at the hospital' and I somehow got wrapped up in some ridiculous romantic notion of love at first sight. What happened to the two-year plan? I think I'm supposed to be working up to coffee.

Maybe Carlisle had it right that first night at the hospital. I cared for her when she needed it the most and, well, it led to sex. So, we fucked. Big deal_._ '_Fuck_' isn't that what most people call it? If I was a normal guy, if I wasn't a seminarian, I would have forgotten her name my now. That's funny, am I even a seminarian anymore? _This is bullshit. I should go._

But I can't. I can't even stand right now. Maybe this all a really is a big mistake… or… no it's just a mistake. Even if she wanted me to, I could not love her in the way she deserves. What would Carlisle do? I wish he were here. Carlisle would tell me to fulfill my promise. When she's ready, when she asks, I'll get her home safely to Seattle.

_Dear Lord, I hope you're sticking around, because I have no clue what I am doing. _

~0~

Three hours, several bottles of wine, and a couple cases of beer later, the last handful of people—those closest to Mike, sit around the dining room table sharing old memories. _Oh, the wonderful memories. Yes, Mike, you were a great guy. _Bella is right there with them, laughing and telling stories. I stand in the doorway between the kitchen and dinning room listening, watching, waiting, dying.

"No, no… that's not the best story. The best Mike story is from when he first started grad school," Bella says as she starts laughing. She points to the one with a thick neck who I think was a roommate, "Jared, you know where I'm going with this." Someone slides Bella a glass of white wine and she takes a small sip. _Great. That vintage will go well with the carrot stick you ate two hours ago. _

Jared starts to laugh, "I know… the wardrobe."

Another jumps in, "Wait, what wardrobe?"

"Ok… so Mike goes to his very first class for his MBA," she takes another sip, "and he has this professor who tells them that he expects the students to behave in class the way they would behave in a business environment. It makes sense, right? And the guy goes on to say that they should even, you know, consider how they dress for class. They don't need to wear a suit everyday, but they should shoot for some sort of business casual."

Jared is now cracking up.

"So right after class," she continues, "Mike decides to go on a shopping spree, and he comes home with _eleven_… not one, not two, but _eleven _pairs of khaki pants and blue button down shirts. He must have Googled 'business casual', saw one picture and went with it."

"_Eleven_?" someone asks. They're all laughing. They're all drunk. It's not that funny.

"Wait, this is the best part, they weren't eleven _different_ pairs of khakis and shirts, he bought eleven of the same exact outfit. I swear to you, for a year I felt like I was dating a Catholic schoolboy who had this as his uniform; every day, the same outfit.

_I have some clothes to burn when I get home. _

"Bella, didn't he wear it once…" Jared starts.

"_Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, yes_. One Saturday night he shows up to take me out to dinner and he's wearing that damn outfit." They burst out laughing. "_On a Saturday._ He's like, 'Bella, I know, but I'm really starting to like this outfit." Her imitation makes him sound dopey, but sweet. _Is that how she sees him? Saw him._

"No, wait. I have to say," Jared jumps in, "the_ best_ Mike story, the_ nicest_ Mike story is the night you two got engaged."

There's a collective, "_Awww_," and I've had enough.

Rolling up my sleeves, I return to my post at the kitchen sink to wash dishes. Dunking a casserole dish into the bath of warm, soapy water, I decide that all baseball games should adhere to little league's 'Mercy Rule.' If one team is down by too many points, the game just ends. There's no need to prolong, to intensify, the humiliation.

"There you are," Sue says as she comes into the kitchen. "I hope Charlie is paying you overtime." She sounds tired. It's been a long day for everyone.

"Hi Sue. I'm just trying to make myself useful. Where is Charlie, anyway?"

"He went out for more ice," she says and opens two bottles of beer.

"Really? We have a ton in the cooler."

"That's Charlie's way of getting out of the house for a few minutes."

"Oh, right. Maybe he can take me next time."

"Enough with the dishes, Edward. Have a beer with me."

I wipe my hands with a dishtowel, and though the beer looks good, I say, "Thanks Sue, but I think I'm going to go pretty soon."

"Edward, from the look of things in there, you aren't leaving for a while. Have a beer." I don't have much tolerance left. I might be leaving sooner than she thinks, but I take the beer and drink down the ice cold, bitter, amber liquid. It's refreshing, and quenching a thirst I didn't know I had.

"You know, Edward, we're real glad you came. Me, Charlie, we're glad." The way she looks at me confirms Sue is in on our secret. "She needs you, Edward."

I shake my head, laugh at the ridiculousness of her statement, and then drink down another long swallow and wipe my mouth on my forearm. "Oh, yeah, Sue. I've been a huge help. She hasn't talked to me. I'm not allowed within five paces of her. She hasn't eaten anything…"

Sue shakes her head. "You know, Edward, it's a damn shame that boy died. Bella knows she's better off, and that's a hard pill for anyone to swallow. I'm allowed to say that, I'm a widow, and l lost a _good _man. That boy was a good son and a good friend, but he wasn't going to be a good husband, and Bella knows that." Sue walks to the doorway and looks into the dinning room. "Come here, Edward." Reluctantly, I join her and look in. "Now, tell me, what do you see?"

"I don't know… I see Bella and Mike's friends talking about good times."

"Mmm-hmm. What else do you see?" I don't know where she's going. I've been watching Bella all day, and coming up with several different interpretations, all of which conflict with one another.

"Keep watching Bella," Sue whispers. And I do. I watch her pour wine into their empty glasses, pass food to them, and pile up empty plates—she's a hostess, and I noticed that she occasionally, quickly glances our way. "You see that, Edward, she's always keeping tabs on you. She needs to know your still here. You're her weakness."

I snort, "Funny, I wanted to be her strength."

"Same thing."

Sue goes to the sink to wash more dishes, but I stay and watch. When Bella thinks no one is noticing, her smile fades, her shoulders fall, and her blinks grow long. She can't keep this up much longer. At her next glance to me, I catch her eyes and hold her gaze to me. _I'm still a strange artifact, aren't I Bella?_ I raise my finger and wave. Bella tries to suppress her sad smile then looks around to see who's watching. _It's only you and me, Bella, no on else sees_. _What have you decided, Isabella Swan? Are you going to keep me?_

Just then, Jared pulls Bella to the corner of the room for a private conversation. _There you go, Jared, you're the last of your buddies to do this to Bella._ It begins the same way; he can't quite find the words. Looking down, he finally gets it out, the confession. I can only assume what he says: '_Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry. I tried to stop him. I told him to tell you. I'm so sorry, can you ever forgive me?' _

You're kidding. This jackass has the audacity to cry. Bella hugs her forgiveness into him. He's holding onto her a little too tightly, a little too long. Bending to put his head on her shoulder, he slides his arms to her waist, and she lets him. _Hands off, dick head. _I feel my protectiveness, my possessiveness, rise in me like hot lava. _I'm not sure if she wants me, but I'm certain she doesn't want you._ I go in, but Sue pulls me back by a fistful of my shirt, whispering, "Hold on there cowboy, Bella can take care of herself."

Sue and I watch Bella pull away from his rough grip and shoo him into the living room. Bella tops off her glass of wine, and finishes it down in one long swig. _Oh, this is going to be bad._ She grabs her purse and storms outside.

Sue nudges my arm, "Edward, what are you waiting for? _Go_."

I go outside, but don't see her. All of the cars are still here but… I run out to the road and search… but… where did she go? Just then, I smell the familiar scent. It leads me behind the house to where I find Bella, with her back to me, holding a smoldering cigarette.

"I didn't know you smoked."

"What, are you going to lecture me now?" _Whoa._ So, I get to meet Angry Funeral Bella. I know the species, but not this particular animal. _ God, grant me patience and a really thick skin. _

"No. I was going to ask if I could bum one."

"Oh… " She's surprised by my response. "I don't know if you'll like them, they're minty and girly," she says with a hard edge to her voice as she throws me the pack.

"No worries, I'm pretty secure in my masculinity." I'm managing to keep my voice deep, confidant, unaffected.

She's smoking Virginia Slims Ultra Light Menthol. Smoking is an overstatement; she's puffing, not inhaling. _No, Bella, you don't smoke._

"Lighter?" I take a step towards her, but she steps away, keeping her distance. She throws the lighter a little hard, but I catch it, and light up. _Hello old friend, glad you could join me for this conversation. _I take a deep drag and my buddy greets me with its familiar, orange glowing ember and soothing nicotine. _Let's take this slowly._

We stand in silence for a long while, smoking. Knowing she'll attack whatever I say, I want her to begin. I walk around to her side so I can at least see her profile. The light from the full moon reveals Bella's tear streaked cheeks. Wordlessly, I step closer and offer my handkerchief. She steps away, shakes her head, pulls her sleeve into her hand and wipes her face dry.

Bella takes another puff and forcefully ashes her ashless cigarette, "Edward, I'm staying in Forks tonight. It's getting late, you should get on the road soon."

"I'll stay too," I retort. Bella is shaking her head, smiling. _That's right, Bella, you aren't getting rid of me that easily._

"I might stay the whole weekend."

"Me too." No, I'm not asking. _What else do you have, Bella?_ I drag. She puffs.

"I saw you talking to Lauren Mallory. She's really pretty, isn't she?"

Oh.

There are a hundred wrong answers to this question and they all flit through my mind in rapid succession. 'She's repulsive,' no that could degrade Bella further. 'She's fine, if you're into that sort of thing.' No, no, no…

"Bella, she's pathetic."

"_Pathetic?"_ Bella scoffs. "Oh, it looks like she's won your sympathies. She could probably use a good friend right now. You should give her a call. I think I have her number inside somewhere…"

"Bella, stop. She revealed herself for what she is. Mrs. Newton overheard, that's how she knew about Mike."

"So, you know what Mike said about me too?"

"Yes."

"And she did this at the church?"

To counter her rising temper, I speak softly, "Yes."

"I see. Good. I'm glad the whole town knows." Bella throws her cigarette down, grinds it out with her pointy shoes, and angrily kicks it way muttering, "I'm done."

I put out my cigarette and grab her arm as she walks past me. "Bella, you are really angry right now, and you have every right to be. But you're not angry at me, _not with me, _Bella_._ Don't do this."

Her body goes slack for just a second, before tensing again. She looks into my eyes and says with calm certainty, "I'm staying in Forks. Good bye, Edward." I know she's not talking about staying in Forks for a night or a weekend, she means for good. I hold onto her, I don't want to let her go.

"Bella, _please_, do not do this."

Bella swallows and repeats with even more fortitude, "Good bye, Edward." She slips through my fingers. I think I've lost her. I can either fold my hand, or play my last card. I chose the latter. Before she disappears, I call, "_Don't you want to see Alice?"_ She freezes and then throws her head back laughing, a dark laugh.

Wearing a sinister smile, Bella turns and walks back to me. "It's so funny you mention Alice. I was just thinking about the two of you." _Where are you going with this?_ She stops in her tracks, bows and shakes her head. When she looks up again, angry Bella is gone. She's transformed back to the sad, doe-eyed Bella who evades my stare. "You know how I feel about Alice. There really isn't a better woman in this world." She's being sincere. "And I think… well, the two of you have really hit it off. She's single…"

"What?" This is going too far. "_Alice?_"

"Don't tell me she's not good enough for you." _Jesus, this is frustrating._

"Really, you two have a lot in common…"

"_Enough!_" I grab her wrist and start a fast pace to the forest behind her house.

"Edward… Edward… what are you doing?" The right thing, I hope. _Oh, Lord, am I?_ There's no turning back now. I'm walking fast, she's having a hard time keeping up, but I can't slow down. "_Edward…?"_ In one swift motion, I turn, sweep her up over my shoulder and continue my stride. She beats her tiny fists into my back with each word, "_Edward, _- _put- me- down!_ _Where are you taking me?"_

"The woods." I hear the deep conviction in my own voice.

"_Edward… what… why?"_

"So no one can hear you scream."

* * *

A/N:

'Oh my gosh,' as Bella would say. Did I just do that? Are you really mad? Um… sorry?

Links for the chapter are on my profile page.

Sooo… I have thoroughly enjoyed the suggestions coming in for an Edward moniker. Among them: Priestward, Pastorward, Griefward, and Seminaryward.

What's your favorite? Would you like to add another to the list? I'll let you know the results.


	7. Catharsis

Happy Valentine's Day!

Thank you for reading, reviewing, and supporting this little fic that could.

My Thanks and Love to Team SGMR: orangeapeal, robsjenn, Sunshine, and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady.

It wasn't easy to keep this little surprise a secret. Into the woods we go…

* * *

Chapter Seven

Catharsis

I walk with her slung over my shoulder into the forest. The only sounds are our ragged, hot breath and damp leaves underfoot. We reach a small clearing, but I continue through. Bella huffs and begins to squirm again. I pin her legs to my chest and continue my journey. Though I have not known her for long, if I know anything about her, it's that she has a place deep in these woods she calls her own. Someplace she hid during childhood, a safe place where she disappeared from the world before she could disappear in front it.

I see something up ahead.

We reach a magnificent clearing—a meadow of sorts, anchored by an ancient hemlock tree on the far end. Next to it, there is a fallen tree with severed branches jutting out in such a way that it looks like an armchair. This is her place. Bella hides here, dreams here, and maybe even cries here. I look up to find an opening in this canopy of trees that perfectly frames the watching full moon. Fully illuminating this space, the silver-blue moonlight glistens off of the dewy moss, grass, and leaves. It is as if we are in the center of the Earth.

I take Bella to the middle of the clearing and carefully place her down on shaky feet. She flares her nostrils and narrows her eyes at me.

"Well…? You brought me out here. What do you expect me to do now?" She snaps.

"I expect you to yell, or scream, or shout, or do something to let all this _fury out of you!"_ My own wordless growl starts deep in my stomach and tears into the night air, reverberating off the walls of this forest. The sound carries with it my hatred for this day, for funerals, for my failures, for my certainty that I could never love Bella well enough and my terror that maybe I could.

I catch my breath and look at her. Bella gapes at me.

"_You_ expect _me_ to do _that_?" The incredulity in her voice is maddening.

"Yes, Isabella, that is _exactly_ what I expect." I begin to walk in a wide circle around her. I am too committed to this idea to back out now. "I want to hear you, Isabella."

"I… I don't know what to say." She's suddenly embarrassed. When she said good-bye to me, we moved far, far beyond the luxury of embarrassment.

"Start with a sound, any sound." I know I'm sounding harsh, but it's for her own good. With her eyes downcast, she mutters something quietly to herself.

"For the love of God, Bella, would you at least try?"

Bella's head snaps up, "Aaaaaaa." It sounds like Eliza Doolittle practicing her vowels. She tries again, feebly, "Augh." Now she's a pirate, an apathetic one at that. Her eyes follow me as I walk. Is she asking me if I'm satisfied with this display? No, I'm not. Is she mocking me? Does she think this is a joke? I know it's only been a few days, but the nightmares… the inability to cry, to eat… shutting out her friends who only want to help… this has to work. _Good Lord, this has to work. Help me make it work. _

"Keep trying."

"Aaaaa… Ahhh… Oh, this is fucking stupid. I'm going back."

_Oh no you don't._ I move to cross in front of Bella's path home. "Yes, go back to the house." She passes me, but I follow, closely, "Go forgive everyone for letting Mike treat you like shit."

_Whack!_ Bella whips around and slaps me across the face.

_Fuck! _It hurts like a mother fucker. How can someone who doesn't eat be that strong? I turn my head back to her and, _oh shit_, it's a total backfire, hands are over her mouth with surprise and regret. I know what she's about to say.

"Oh, Edward, I am so, so, so-"

So, I slap her back.

I don't actually slap her, but give her the impression of being slapped. Really, I place two fingers on her jaw and turn her head. It isn't even enough to make a sound, but it is enough to unleash the ire below the surface. Mission accomplished.

_Whack!_

_Ugh! _ _The same cheek, Bella? Fuck, my eyes are watering._

Bella finds her voice, or at least she finds someone's voice, because it sounds nothing like her. "Don't you EVER lay your hands on me! NO ONE lays their hands on me!"

Bella proceeds to give me the most serious beating I've ever received, and I let her. I let her because she needs this, and because she primarily hits me in the chest, which I can take. And because I love her. The whole time, she yells things, some of which I understand, like, "_I am a precious child of God you Mother Fucker and I will be treated as such._" Other times, I think Bella is letting out her anger towards Mike. I know I've never forgotten her birthday. When I'm sure she's tapping into her anger towards Mike, and she begins to go for the face, "_Ow, Bella, not the face… please… ow_," I grab her wrists and twist her away from me.

Gently, I guide Bella to her mark in the center of the clearing, "Keep going, Bella. Tell Mike what you need to tell him."

"I… can't… I can't." She's shaking her head, panting, exhausted.

"Then, tell his friends!" I yell. "What do you want to tell them?"

Bella turns towards the path, with her fists balled, and screams, _"Get out of my house you cock-suckers!"_ Wow. I think Bella is finding her rage.

"Good, Bella, good. Now, Mrs. Newton; tell Mrs. Newton how you feel." I continue to walk the perimeter of the clearing.

Without hesitation, Bella clasps her hands to her chest and lets her head fall back, as she speaks to the night sky. "Oh, Mrs. Newton, how could you? How could you believe his lie? _Me?_ _A cheater?_ You know me… you've known me since I was a child. You called me daughter and then you… you broke my heart." Bella's voice breaks and I watch her rage melt into grief. _No, not yet Bella. _

"Lauren Mallory!" I shout to bring back her wrath.

Bella picks up a rock and hurls it at the hemlock tree, "_Whore!"_ Bits of bark fly through the air. Even this old tree will make a sacrifice to Bella's pain. Alternating between open-hand slaps and tight-fist punches, Bella beats the trunk while a stream of obscenities flow out of her. Then she threatens "If you ever touch Edward again, I swear to you, I will chop you up in little pieces and set you on fire! You… you… you… you, you," _Hold it together, Bella_, "you, you, CUNT!" _Whoa, you went there._ "And now you've made me say that word…" Bella begins to repeatedly kick the tree with pointy shoes and I'm sure she'll hurt herself. I sweep down, wrap my arms around her waist, and pick her up. Legs and arms continue to beat at the air as I carry her away, "Fucking slut!"

She is manic, spilling emotion everywhere. I fight my instinct to stop this, to soothe her, because there's more she has to say. I place her down. When she has her footing, I release her and get out of her way, saying only one word, "Mike."

A roar rips out of Bella that makes my own cry sound like a purr. Chest and neck exposed to the moon, her arms outstretched, energy surging down to her fingers. She is luminous, incandescent. She is Catharsis. Isabella Swan is a goddess of rage, grief, sex, love, and death. But right now, it's mostly rage.

"I… you… _fuck_… why… " She can't find the words; maybe she is too far gone. _Please, Bella, hang in there. You're almost there._

"The truth, Bella!"

"_I hate you, Mike!_ _Fuck_. God, forgive me_._ Mike, I hate you and miss you right now so much it hurts. It truly, physically hurts. This is real pain." Her words flow out of her as she speaks with her whole being, pounding and pulling at her hair and body, "I feel it here in my head, and in my heart, and my gut. I'm sick, I'm so sick and it's real, and you did this. It took years, but you dismantled me. And I let you… I let you do it. And I hate you and I hate me for all of it. For what you told your parents. For making me a fool. FUCK! Mike, I hate myself for this, but there is a part of me, God help me, there is a real part of me that is glad you're dead." Bella purges her last cry, "FUCK ME!" before she falls to her hands and knees.

I go to her, to pick her up, but hear her indomitable protest, "No." Bella takes off her shoes, holds one above her head, and stabs the wet ground with the heel. I kneel behind her with my hand on her back. I don't know what she's doing, but feeling her tremble, I'm suddenly terrified that I've pushed her too far. Again, she brings down the shoe, forcefully cutting through the grass and dirt, and again, and again. She tosses the shoe aside and begins to claw at the ground with both her hands, ripping through the damp earth, digging a hole deeper and deeper. I hear a sharp breath as she pulls off her wedding ring. A glint of platinum in the bottom of the hole for only a second before Bella drags dirt and grass and leaves, from wherever she can reach, to fill the hole. She continues to pull and scratch at the earth until she's created a small mound, a grave, for the ring. She pounds on the grave over and over again until she has nothing left. She is silent for a moment, and then I hear her whisper, "Amen." It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

I pull her lifeless body onto my lap and shower her with kisses. I kiss her hair, her ear, and her jaw and neck all the time murmuring, _"_Good, Bella_," _and_,_ "forgive me." Muddled messages of pride and sorry, I don't know if any of it is making sense. Finally, she speaks. Through hoarse, ragged breath, she whispers, "Take me."

"I will, I will. I'm taking you home right now. I'll carry you, Bella. We'll be home in a few minutes."

I stand with her, my arms wrapped across her shoulders and hips. But before I can scoop her legs up to cradle her, she pulls my hand from her shoulder and roughly moves it inside her dress, under the silky material of her bra. She whispers again, "Take me." Oh_. _Ohhh_. _Oh, God_._ This is wrong. "Please," she whimpers.

I continue to massage her breast under her hand, I can't stop myself from running my thumb over her hard peak, but I warn, "Bella." She throws her head back against my shoulder. I have no control. I run my tongue down her neck and skim my teeth back up again until I find her earlobe and suck it between my lips, my teeth, knowing all the time this has to stop. She moans. I'm so hard, I'm aching.

Suddenly, Bella pulls away and bends forward and stripping herself of her panties. She stays bent over, rubs her backside against my erection and begs, "Please, Edward_…"_

Placing my hand on the small of her back, and feeling her rub herself against me, I start again, "Bella, I don't think this is…"

"Make… make me feel… something other than hate." It takes me another second to shake away the shock of seeing Bella in this position. She begins to lift her skirt, but I come to before she does, quickly unfolding her and turning her towards me.

"Yes, Bella, yes, anything, but not like that. I need to see your face." I push my fingers into her thick locks of hair and kiss her forcefully, just now remembering how long I've waited to kiss her. I feel her fingers fumble at my belt and open the top button of my trousers. Over my pants, her hand runs the full length of me. I let out a groan at the feel of her. _Where? Where are we going to do this?_ She is afraid to be on top… the ground is too wet and cold for her to be under me. I continue to kiss her as I walk her backwards to the hemlock tree. I've seen this in pictures; maybe I can make this work. She leans against the tree as I search her eyes. I want to find love and longing, but I only see torment, desperation. I promised I would, I can't stop now, but still, it isn't right.

I lean in and kiss her more gently, hoping to replace some of her anguish. Slowly, I stroke her face and open my mouth, sliding my tongue into her. Her movement is frenzied. I hold her jaw and train her tongue into a slower rhythm. She lets me. I drag one finger from her neck, to her chest, to the space between her breasts. I continue, ghosting my hand across her middle, until I reach the knot that holds her dress closed. I start to untie it, but Bella's hand is quick to stop me. Pulling away from our kiss, I look at her and she shakes her head, infinitesimally. With her face in my hand, she can't turn away, but she shifts her eyes to the side and tears pool in the corners.

With all she's been through tonight, this is what brings tears to her eyes. I don't understand. Her bottom lip begins to quiver.

"Shhh. It's okay," I whisper, "we can stop." _Please, let's stop._ She shakes her head and stifles a sob. One blink and the tears release down her cheeks. "Bella. Oh, Bella." Kissing each cheek, I absorb the salty tears and make them my own. She's a china doll laced with fractures; one indelicate gesture and she'll be dust in my hands.

"I'm okay. Please, don't stop." I give her the tenderest kiss I can, barely touching my lips to hers, but somehow transmitting all the love I have in this small space between us. While keeping one hand on her face, I slowly move the other down her hip, to her thigh. Her eyes tell me to continue, so I move my hand into the opening of her skirt. Bella's breath hitches, and I continue, slowly sliding my hand over the velvet skin of her inner thigh, until I reach the place where she is warmest and wettest.

I lean in for another kiss as I slide two fingers over her sex. Bella moans, her knees buckle, I wrap my arm around her waist to hold her up, and she grabs hold of my shoulders.

I whisper, "Okay?"

"Yes," she breathes, trying to assure me that I am only giving her what she craves.

I continue to stroke my fingers over her slick clitoris. Just when my throbbing erection demands attention, Bella reaches down, unzips my fly, and pushes my trousers below my hips, releasing me. I'm sticky with my own arousal. Bella holds me firmly and runs her thumb over my tip, spreading my wetness. She doesn't move her hand, but holds me, giving me just enough to ease my raw need.

I prod my knee against the inside of hers, and she spreads her legs for me. I want to be sure she is ready for me. No more pain, she's endured enough. Slowly, I slide one finger inside of her. Bella groans. I hold her gaze as I slide my finger in and out, in and out. I make small circles and try to stretch her. My thumb continues to rub her clitoris as I add a second finger. Bella grunts and her breath quickens. I feel her legs weaken again and I hold her firmly to me.

_Fuck, she is so tight_. Her body tries to reject even my fingers_._ A part of her doesn't want this. _I can't do this; I'm going to hurt her. _It is a sad fact, but I don't think our bodies were made to fit together. I've lived without sex for a long time. If I'm good at anything, it's abstinence. Angry at this realization, and with a mind of its own, my pelvis thrusts into Bella's small hands and I groan. I too am panting.

"Bella, Bella. I can't… I'm afraid I'll hurt you." She whimpers. "I'm going to make you come this way. I'm gonna make you come, Bella." I continue to rub her more quickly.

"Nooo," Bella tries to pull my hand away, weakly, and begs, "please… inside… come inside of me…" She attempts to hitch her leg on my hip, but it slides down my body. She is shattered. "Don't make me b-beg…" My heart twists at her plea, making me realize I'll hurt her either way, physically or emotionally. I swallow the lump of fear in my throat.

"Shhh… okay, anything." I put her arms around my neck, and pick her up from her bottom. I spread my legs so she can more easily anchor her calves around my thighs. The heat of liquid Bella is right above me, the tip of me at her entrance.

I look up at her and mentally prepare to bring her down slowly, inch by inch over my, _FUUUCK! _Bella impales herself down onto me. I'm completely inside of her and my head is feeling things it probably shouldn't feel. I think I'm hitting organs. If it hurt me, it probably killed her. Bella is slumped around me like a rag doll. _Holy shit, I think it did kill her. _

"Bella? Bella." I hear her groan, so at least I know she's still alive. "Listen, I'm going to pull out of you very, _very_ slowly. And then I'm going to put you down." Lifting her hips, I slowly withdraw my pelvis down and away from her. Before I can completely pull out, Bella uses my shoulders as leverage, and thrusts herself down on me again. She screams out in pain. _What the fuck is she doing? _This isn't hanky-panky. This is suicide by cock.

I pin her to the tree with my hips. "Don't move," I order. I need to be careful; my fear for her can sound like anger.

With tears streaming down, she shakes her head and lets out a small, "I won't."

Having no idea how the physics of this position works, I'm relieved to find I can hold her up with one hand and use the other to wipe her tears. With nothing but love and worry in my voice, I ask, "What are you doing, Bella?"

"I d-don't know," she sobs.

I lean my forehead to hers and try to figure out what to do next. Try to pull out again? Try to go limp so I have no choice but to sort of fall out of her? No chance. Stay here until daylight? I pray for enlightenment. With few options left, I decide to kiss her. I kiss her head, and her temple, her wet cheeks, and the tip of her nose, which, in spite of this horrible night, brings out Bella's embarrassed, sad smile. Taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger, I lift her face to my mouth and kiss her. Though my hair is shorter, Bella still finds a way to fill the space between her fingers with my locks and give a gentle pull. I suck her bottom lip into my mouth and run my tongue through her cut, wishing I had the power to seal her wound.

I take a risk by releasing her chin, and slipping my hand between us, to where we are joined. Past her small tuft of damp hair, I find the center of her need, and ghost my fingertips in a gentle stroke.

Bella breaks our kiss and murmurs, "Yes."

"Yes?" I continue to rub with more pressure.

"Yes." Her breathing becomes huskier.

"Yes?"

"Yeah…" Bella tilts her head back and closes her eyes. As I continue to make circles, I watch Bella's face reflect the pleasure of my touch. Her mouth opens in bliss—she is beautiful. And then I feel it. Her body opens itself to me. Invites me. I am no longer an intruder.

"Ah… Ah… Yes," she pants. A sheen of sweat appears on her face, her chest. "Move in me."

I pull out a few inches and carefully push back into her. Oh, God it feels so good. I'll have to thank my cock later for being so patient. Again, I pull out, and her body pulls me back in, wanting me there. Her name escapes my lips. Once again, out of her, into her. _"_Bella."

"Mmmm… more. You… can give me more."

I take her at her word.

I pick up my rhythm only slightly, but remove my hand from between us, and pull open the v-neck of her dress. I release one breast from the fabric, bend down, and take her in my mouth. Oh, this soft, gossamer skin. Holding her nipple between my teeth, I quickly flick my tongue over the stiff peak. I suck, hard. Bella tugs at my hair and moans in response. I'm going to come soon, so the other breast only gets a little hand action, no mouth.

Lifting her higher with both hands, I look up at her, _God I love this woman_, and begin to thrust, harder, faster, now realizing I am making love to Isabella Swan on the symbolic face of Lauren Mallory. With this thought, the part of my brain that says I might hurt her shuts down and I really begin to move. I thrust again, and again, and again, grunting out my pleasure.

"_Yes, Yes, Yes!" _she calls with each movement.

I want to tell her I love her… "Ungh" I need to say it, but… _ Maxim _said 'No'… _GQ_ said, 'Not yet,' and Jasper said I'd scare the shit out of her.

I grow thick inside of her. I'm going to come. I can't say it before I come—_she'll never believe me!_

"I… I…" Her pitch rises. Maybe she'll say it. _"I… I…" _

_Say it, SAY IT!_

"_I… I'm on the pill!"_

"Me Too!"

"_Yes!"_ Bella calls in ecstasy as she throws her body around me, propelling us back a few steps from Lauren Mallory's tree.

I erupt, powerfully releasing inside of her, calling her name. I stand in the middle of the forest holding, and coming with, the woman I love. If this isn't heaven, I don't know what is.

I bring her with me to my knees, still inside of her, my arms wrapped around her. As we catch our breath, I feel Bella's hands on my face, her forehead pressed against mine.

"Hi," I say as I stroke the back of her head. I wait, but she says nothing. "You okay?" Bella wraps her arms around my neck, moves her head to my shoulder, and begins to cry. I don't know if her pain is more emotional or physical, but I'm certain it's both. I press her to my chest, and rub my hands over her back listening to her soft sobs. "It's okay, just cry, crying is good." And after a few moments, I know there is something I have to do.

"Bella, I need you to stay still, okay? I'm going to pull out of you now. So, I'm going to move you just a little bit and try to do this carefully." I feel Bella stiffen at my words. I ease her a few inches down on my thighs and pull out of her. As I do, Bella grabs fistfuls of my shirt and muffles a short scream in my shoulder. Fuck, she's hurt. With the fading adrenaline and arousal, she must be feeling the physical pain. "Okay… okay, Bella. You're hurt, aren't you? I reach into the pocket of my trousers around my calves and, eventually, find what I'm looking for—my handkerchief.

I skate the cool, smooth fabric over Bella's knee; she inhales, sharply. I'm sure her skin is over sensitized. "This is a handkerchief, Bella, just a handkerchief," I say running it over her knee again. "See, it's soft. I'm not going to hurt you with this." I slowly drag it up her thigh saying, "I just want to help you, okay?" Under my hand splayed across her back, I feel Bella's breath quicken. She wraps her arms more tightly around my neck, burying her face into her own arm, bracing herself. Very lightly, I hold my handkerchief to Bella's sex, feeling the fabric saturate. "It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"No," she whispers. Thank God, she's speaking again.

I pull the cloth away and hold it to the moonlight. It's wet, but clear, there is no blood. Relief.

"Am I…? She knows what I was looking for.

"No, Bella, you're not bleeding. It hurts though, doesn't it?"

"Yes."

"I bet you want to close your legs now, don't you?"

"Yes… please." I'm not sure the best way to do this. I could pick her up off my lap and carry her back, but that would require me to walk through the woods with my pants around my ankles. That will play well, '_Hey Charlie, no worries, I've got your daughter right here_.' No way around it, I'm going to have to put my girl, who I injured, on the cold, wet ground.

"We're going to get your pretty dress a little more dirty. I'm going to slide you down my legs and I'm going to rest you on the ground… "

"Okay… Or, I could just stand up." Oh.

"Do you think you can?"

"I think so." Bella places her feet on either side of me, and presses her hands into my shoulders.

"Wait, your hands." I now see the wine-colored mud covering her knuckles for what it is, a mix of earth and blood.

Bella relaxes back onto my legs, and I suck on my shirttail, trying to soften the stiff fabric, while I inspect her hands.

"I'm okay, they're okay," she murmurs. Holding her right hand, the most damaged, I gently try to wipe away the dirt with my shirt. She inhales sharply at the coarse fabric on sensitive skin, I stop, and she repeats, "Really, I'm okay." I bring her hand to my mouth and carefully lick and suck her knuckle until I taste no dirt, only flesh and blood. Bella silently watches as I move to each knuckle and onto the next hand.

"Edward, you're eating dirt for me?" she asks with wonder and a bit of amusement.

"Shhh… don't bother me while I'm working." I hear her smile. While blowing on her wet hands, I can see no more blood rise to the surface. I peer up to see her closed eyes; she's half asleep. "Ready to go back?"

She swallows and opens her eyes, "Mmm-hmm."

"Up you go." With my hands at her waist, I help her as she rises. She's still partway crouched when I feel her whole body quiver. Her muscles are giving out; it's all been too much.

"Hang on." With her hands still using me as balance, I stand, quickly dress, and sweep her off her feet. "Okay?"

"Yes. Wait… um, do you have that handkerchief?" _Have it? I was going to sleep with it under my pillow. I'm a pig, Bella. _

"Um, yes."

"Can I have it back?'

"Ah, sure."

"It sort of felt good, you know, _there_."

"Should we get your panties?"

"Good idea." I carry her to where I see her panties and place her down. I give the handkerchief back to her. Bella modestly opens the skirt of her dress and puts it between her legs, as I shake the grass out of her panties and hold them open for her. Using my shoulders for support, she steps into them. I slide them up to hold handkerchief in place. "All good?"

"All good." I sweep her up into my arms again, and begin to walk through the forest, to her home. I knew those handkerchiefs would come in handy.

"You know, Edward, I can walk."

"Yes, Bella, I know."

...

* * *

A/N

I have a little outtake about Edward searching for the perfect handkerchief that I'm looking forward to sharing with you.

The official Pimp on Team SGMR, robsjenn (who wears a red stain suit while she's pimping, btw), suggested we use the outtake to celebrate hitting 500 reviews. It shouldn't take too long, we had over fifty last chapter :) Um... yell at her, not me.

Oh, you can stop by my profile to vote on Edward's moniker.

Teaser next Saturday.

I'm a sucker for reviews, if you want to share the love…


	8. The Care and Feeding of Magical Creature

A/N: Yep… I'm a little ahead of schedule.

The Goddesses of The Perv Pack's Smut Shack selected this little story as their Perv Pack Pick. I'm still finding the words (the thesaurus is out)… I am humbled, flabbergasted, bewildered, but most of all, sincerely grateful.

My Thanks to Team SGMR: orangeapeal, robsjenn, Sunshine, and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady.

I hope you enjoy…

...

* * *

Chapter Eight

The Care and Feeding of Magical Creatures

.

By the time we reach the house, Bella is peacefully asleep in my arms. Charlie's police car is gone—maybe he's getting more ice—but the other cars are still here. I run through possible stories to explain where we've been, because I'll be damned before I wake her up to face those 'cock-suckers.' I smile to myself, oh, my dirty girl and her dirty mouth. Opening the door prepared to tell my lame, 'she got lost in the woods and fell asleep' story, I find the house empty. With the exception of Sue asleep on the couch, everyone is gone. The unfamiliar silence is, at once, calming and eerie.

There is a note on the coffee table scribbled on the back of an old envelope.

I took the drunk ones to the hotel.

Be back soon.

-Dad

In the light of the house, I finally see Bella's condition beyond the soiled dress, and tangled hair: knees, scraped and dirty, puffy eyes with deep-purple circles painted on a canvas of colorless skin, bruised knuckles swelling more by the minute. She looks worse than she did at the hospital.

_I did this. _

I touch my lips to her forehead and feel the damp chill. She isn't well. I want to get her better. _Help me get her better._ I carry her upstairs, lay her in the middle of her small bed, and cover her in blankets, tucking them tightly around her, and placing her bear next to her.

I leave to gather a few things, and quickly return to find she's still asleep. Sitting on the edge of her bed, I stroke her forehead with my thumb until she wakes.

"Hey," I say softly, watching bewildered eyes scan the room, and then meet my gaze.

"Did I faint?" She's hoarse.

"No. I don't think so. I think you fell asleep." I continue to stroke and her skin begins to flush at my touch.

"Oh, good." She pulls her bear into her, "You carried me?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." I grab a pillow and, offering my hand, say, "Here, let's sit you up." She pushes herself up without my hand and I put the pillow behind her. I sit back down, and give her the bottle of Pedialyte.

"You need to drink."

She takes a few sips, but keeps her eyes on me, wary.

"Edward, what happened while I was asleep?"

I examine the knuckles on Bella's free hand, thin layers of skin peeled to reveal pink, raw flesh.

"When we got here, everyone was gone. Charlie left a note. He took them to the hotel. Sue's asleep on the couch." I mutter.

"What else happened…? You can tell me, I can handle it."

"I don't know what you mean." I take a bag of ice and hold it gently to her knuckles and lift it again, watching condensation permeate angry wounds on delicate skin.

"Edward, tell me this look on your face isn't because of me." She's going to tell me she's fine, but I don't want to hear it. I continue to touch the ice to her hand when I hear her put down the bottle.

"Please keep drinking, Isabella."

"Not unless you look at me." I sigh, which I know is immature, but it slips out, and look up at her.

"Edward, I'm fine." I shake my head and go back to her wounds. "No, wait, skip that. Look at me." I do, expectant. _Yes, Bella, tell me how fine you are._

"Alright, I might not be in the best shape of my life right now, but I am so much better than I was this afternoon, or yesterday, or last week. And it's because of you."

"Okay." I return to her wounds. This afternoon we weren't checking to see from how many different places you were bleeding. And, yes, this is because of me.

"Edward," she places a hand on my jaw, lifting my face to hers, and she speaks with gentle conviction, "I will work on telling you when I am not fine, but you have to work on trusting me when I say that I am. Trust me, okay?"

I look into her eyes, and past the pleading, I notice something new. There's serenity in her, a peace. She's somehow sated.

"Alright." I acquiesce and Bella pulls me in for a soft kiss, and strokes my end of the day scruff on my jaw. "I'll trust you more if you eat your sandwich." She smiles, relieved, and picks up one triangle of the sandwich.

"This is some sandwich, Edward."

"It's American cheese."

"Yes, it is. Thank you for making it for me." I smile proudly as I return to my work, securing the ice to her hand with a fresh handkerchief. From my peripheral vision, I catch Bella with a twisted smile as she chews her mouthful and cringes through the swallow. Maybe in my zeal, I went a little too far with the sandwich.

"It's a lot of cheese, isn't Bella?" I mirror her smile.

"No, it's… wonderful. It's… it's… "

"It's about a pound of cheese, isn't it Bella?" Her face splits in a grin, not aimed at me, and I can't help joining her.

"Good thing I'm not lactose intolerant."

"Charlie would have told me."

"Wonderful."

"Keep eating, Little One."

"Little One? Hey, I am not that little," Bella feigns insult, her raspy voice falling in and out of audibility.

"Yes you are. How tall are you, anyway, 5'1,'' 5'2''?" I tease. I reach for the washcloth on her bedside table. Pulling down the covers, I expose her knees and carefully wipe the dirt away.

"I'll have you know, I stand a proud 5 feet 4 inches tall, and that is before I even put on my big girl high heels. Why, how tall are you?"

"Eat your sandwich. I'm 6'2.''

"Oh, that's tall, even by normal people standards." She's trying to lighten the mood, and her effort alone makes it work. "So, 'Little One?' What happened to calling me 'baby'? It didn't stick, did it?"

"Isabella, you are 'baby' in my head, but I can't quite get it to roll off of my tongue. Calling a woman as strong as you 'baby' just doesn't seem right."

"You think I'm strong?" Bella wears a sweet, surprised face; like she just won her class spelling bee and with a word she never heard before.

"Shockingly so. Isn't that what we've been talking about?"

"I can be a lot stronger than this." Lord have mercy, she's getting her second wind. And I think I inadvertently encouraged her to keep up her act. "I can be very strong… and capable, and…"

"Bella. I know, I know… what I'm trying to say is that you don't _have_ to be, okay?" _Let me take care of you, baby._

"Oh, okay." Her expression is relieved? Crestfallen? I don't know.

"Eat your sandwich and I'll keep working on a new term of endearment." I place an innocent kiss on her knee and we hear the front door open downstairs.

"Charlie." Hastily, she tires to comb her hair with her fingers and pull it into a ponytail.

"Hey, relax… you stay here and rest. I'll tell Charlie we're home. I'll be back in a few minutes to say goodnight to you." Bella jolts up.

"Wait, we aren't going to Seattle tonight?"

"I… I thought…" _Lord, we shouldn't go back tonight, should we?_ "Bella, I know you're strong, but you are exhausted, and hurt, maybe a night's rest would be good for you. Do you really want to go to Seattle tonight?"

Clearly beset by this decision, Bella looks around the room.

"I want to be in Seattle." I'm not convinced.

"Are you sure you want to leave tonight?"

"Yes… no." Bella looks around the room again, wistfully.

"We can leave tomorrow. I'll stay in Forks." She's not ready.

Hugging her bear to her chest, she whispers, "Will you still tuck me in if we go to Seattle tonight?" _Oh, Bella._ She had to ask me. What have I done to make her ask? I'm confused, but I asked for this, not only by permitting, but requesting her honest vulnerability. I can only imagine the muddle of her mind, this isn't about me—I hope.

"Yes, I will, Bella." I try to hide my hurt. "I will tuck you in if you're Seattle, or here in Forks, or in China… I will tuck you in wherever you are." She nods her head as she considers my words.

"Okay… let's go then." Bella finds her resolve. "I need to get dressed. You'll go down and talk to my dad?" I don't think I've ever heard her refer to him as such.

"Yes, I'll be up in a few minutes and help you get your things."

"Okay."

"Eat your sandwich."

"Edward," she stops me before I leave, "thank you."

"You're welcome."

I find Charlie in the kitchen staring at a pot of brewing coffee.

"I thought you could use some coffee for the ride. I assume you're still going." Charlie takes a coffee mug and a travel mug from the cupboard, melancholic.

"She says she wants to go, but I think she's torn." Charlie nods.

"Did she eat?"

"She's eating right now."

"Eggs?"

"Cheese sandwich." He nods again, still thinking.

"You think it's too soon, don't you, Charlie?"

He shrugs, and then shakes his head as he begins to put away the last of the cleaned dishes. After a few minutes he says, "I know it will be good for her to go back, but I don't know if it's the right time. I doubt the sky is going to open up and tell us when she should go." He glances at me, "Sorry, I didn't mean to, ah, offend you."

"Not at all. I've sort of been hoping for that voice myself."

He nods and grumbles, "I was hoping Alice would get home first." I see. How can he entrust Bella to near stranger? _Give me the words to provide some solace._

"I know. I made a promise to you that I would stay with her every night until Alice comes home, and I will." Charlie stops what he's doing and scrutinizes me. He's Chief Swan looking for cues of deception, so I continue, straightening up and meeting his eyes, "And if she wants to come home, I'll bring her back."

"You can call me, I'll come get her."

"I'll bring her back, sir." _Believe me, Charlie._

"You know, it can get a little rough… her nightmares. No need to be some sort of hero, if you can't handle it…"

"I can handle it. But," he needs me to say it, so I do, "if I have to, I'll call… I'll bring her back." Narrowed eyes glare at me, but he's beginning to nod.

"You remember all the stuff I told you?"

"Yes, I wrote it all down, I made a list, and I remember."

"Sometimes she doesn't know where she is and she doesn't always re-"

"Remember the dream, or having a dream. I got it." He's told me this before, more than once.

"Right." He relaxes and pours our coffee. "Since, Alice is gone, her bedroom is free, and there's a couch there, too."

"Yes, thank you." Please let's not have this conversation.

Charlie takes milk from the refrigerator, mumbling, "Well… I guess since you're going to be a minister and all…"

"Right. So, you got everyone back to the hotel okay?"

"Well, I didn't drop them off on the cliffs to fend for themselves, so I'd say it was a success." Charlie drinks his coffee black; I use cream and sugar. He is so much cooler than I.

~0~

"Edward, are you sure you don't mind that we're leaving the flowers for Sue?"

"Not at all, I think it's a great idea." Bella slips the card into the pocket of her jeans. Wearing her Converse sneakers, gray hooded sweatshirt, and ponytail, she looks particularly small, and young.

Bella hugs her bear as she scans the room one last time. I can't help but to stare at the bear's sad face. _Where did you come from? Surely, you couldn't be from Mike and Charlie isn't the teddy bear type. _This is good, I'm sincerely jealous of an inanimate object.

"So, your bear is coming with us?"

"Yes. He asked if he could come and I didn't have the heart to tell him he couldn't." Bella looks embarrassed, but hopeful for my acceptance, clearly this thing is important to her. "He's been keeping me company this week." _I could have kept you company, if you let me._ "This is Pedi," she waves his paw at me.

"Petey? Did someone named Pete give him to you?"

"Oh. No, not Petey like Pete, it's a 'D' not a 'T.' Pe_di_… short for, um, Pedialyte. Angela gave him to me. He was waiting here when I got home." Pedi? _Pedialyte. _ I love this fucking bear.

"Bella, I'm not sure how to tell you this, but I have some bad news."

"What's wrong?"

"Don't worry, it's not a big deal, I'm sure we can rectify it somehow. But, I don't have a child's safety seat in the Volvo and I'm a little worried for Pedi. We can stop someplace on the way, maybe pick one up." Bella laughs, and my heart expands. I didn't know it was still possible for her to make that sound.

"Oh, well," she says with concern and disappointment, stifling her laugh, "that is a problem isn't it?"

"I'm sorry. I should always have one. You never know when you're going to need to drive a child… or a bear around."

"True. Well, live and learn, I guess. There really isn't a place open in Forks right now to pick one up. Do you think he'll be safe on my lap?"

"I don't know; it's a risk."

"Will you drive carefully?"

"With you in the car, absolutely."

Bella runs her tongue over her cut, "You have airbags, and everything right?" We're no longer talking about the bear's safety.

"Yes, that car is one of the safest automobiles on the road, Bella," I say in earnest.

"Good." Bella looks at her bear and back to me, "because we have some precious cargo here."

"Yes, we do." I lean in and kiss the top of her head.

"Okay, Charlie's waiting. How do I look?"

"Pretty, always. But keep your hands in your pocket."

"Got it." I grab her suitcase, and we head to the stairs. "You know, Edward, I can carry my own suitcase."

"Yes, Bella, I know."

~0~

While Charlie and Bella say their private goodbyes, I heat the car and text Alice:

We're on our  
way home.  
-E

The door opens and, as Bella slips inside, I pocket my phone. They both look a little shaken.

Charlie leans in, "Alright, you two got everything?"

"Yep, I think we're good," Bella says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes.

"I'm thinking of coming over next weekend… if you don't have plans?"

"Dad, you're coming to Seattle?"

"Yeah. I've been thinking that you don't always have to come here. I can go there too. Maybe I'll see if Sue wants to come. We'll have lunch or something."

"Yes, that would be great… thank you, Dad." Awkwardly, he leans in to hug her. She clings to him. Adores him.

"Okay, you two have a safe drive. Call me if you need anything."

"I will," Bella says as she clicks her seatbelt, but Charlie's eyes meet mine, his message is for me. I give him a confident nod, which he returns. One last wave, and the car door shuts.

"Alright Bella, and, um…Pedi," _that will take some getting used to_, "we have one very important decision to make before we go."

"What's that?"

"Music."

"Oh, that is important. What do you have?"

"I made a few different playlists for the ride, but first…"

"You made playlists? For me?" She is always taken-aback at the slightest gesture of kindness. I nod.

"I wasn't sure what you'd want to hear so I made a few different ones. We have…"

"And you did this for me?" I nod again, trying to contain my satisfaction at her pleasure, as I fiddle with my iPod.

"Oh, that look right there, that's going to be the end of me."

"What look?" Scrolling through my playlists, I feel Bella stoke my cheek with the back of her hand. And although I'm trying to play it cool, I want to wag my tail and crawl into her lap like a puppy.

"That look," she murmurs. "That nod… it's that boy in you who is so proud, but that man who is too shy, too embarrassed to show it. I love that look." I close my eyes, wanting to extend—to live in—this moment. This magical place where the fly ball is suspended in the blue sky, my mitt is open, I'm bound to catch it, but there's still a chance I'll miss.

"Come here," she reaches over to my far cheek to pull me in for a kiss, and I involuntarily wince at her touch. _Damn it!_

"Edward?" Bella turns on the overhead light and yanks my chin towards her to inspect my face. _Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! _Alarm is evident in her eyes and voice,

"How did I not see this before?" _Because I've been hiding it all night. _

"Edward, what horrible, crazy woman gave you this bruise?" Her voice is laced with remorse.

"Shhh, don't, Bella." She pulls her hand away. I drop the ball. "Does it make me look tough?" I try to tease, but she pulls her lips into a sorrowful line. "Sexy?" She shakes her head, not willing to play. "Bella," I take her hand and kiss her palm, "I like my bruise."

"You like your bruise?"

"Yes, I like my bruise… now we match." At least I get her sad smile.

I rub her shoulder, her neck, feeling her ridged muscles under my hands. It's critical that she understands. "Bella, I asked for this… I instigated this. But you have to know that the things I said… when I put my hands on you, I would never _really_ hurt you."

"I know, I know Edward, and I knew it in the moment."

"You did? Because it's really important that you understand…"

"I did, I do. I'm sorry… once I started, I just couldn't stop… I don't know what happened to me out there," she says, disconcerted, her layers of guilt smothering her.

"You needed it, Bella. That's all that happened to you." She nods, her gaze floats to the window. From my rear-view mirror, I see Charlie looking out the living room window. "Okay, I think we better go."

We ride off in silence, and though I sort through every possible way to lighten the mood, I come up with nothing. The heavy quiet is broken by the sound from Bella's cell phone. This will only make things worse. I know it is Alice; she's been vibrating in my pocket since I texted her.

Bella laughs once, "It's Alice… she wants to know why you haven't texted her back." _Shit._ Bella slowly speaks out her response as she types, "He didn't text you back because I am a total nut job. My fault… not his… details tomorrow. Love, B. Kiss. And… send." Bella looks up at me with an apologetic smile.

"Nut job?"

"I think that sums it up pretty well." _How about emotionally abused widow?_ I think that says it a little better, but I'm not willing to go too far down that path—not now. We're on the brink of mood change.

"I think that's a little harsh… but, do we need to talk about this? The Alice thing?"

"No. I know Alice would _never_, ever do that to me." _And me?_ Bella quickly continues, "So, enough of poor Bella, let's hear about those playlists."

"Um… okay, well, we have Classical…"

"Nope, I'll go right to sleep."

"Ah… we have Classic Rock…"

"Always a good option…"

"There's Alternative."

"Alternative? Or Alternative Depressing?"

"Alternative Depressing"

"Next."

"We have—Bella, I would never, ever do that to you either, just for the record."

"Oh… okay. Thank you, Edward." And it's a, 'thank you for the gesture,' but she doesn't believe me, I can hear it in her voice. _Patience Jesus, she needs time, and I need patience._

"Should we go with Classic Rock?" Bella quickly pulls the conversation back into the light, and I let her, I want to be there too.

"Good choice, but we need to break this down a little further. Forgive the cliché, but are you more Beatles or Rolling Stones?"

"Beatles."

"Yes, I should have guessed."

"Paul or John."

"Why does no one offer George as a choice?"

"George?"

"Yes, George," she says, proudly.

"No, it makes sense. You and about one per cent of the world's population favor George. Of course, you favor George. I should be surprised you didn't pick Ringo." She laughs. _We're back in the light, baby!_

"How about you?" I give her a wicked smile; I want her to guess. "Rolling Stones all the way, and, let's see…" I peer at her, hopeful she sees me for who I am. "Keep your eyes on the road, Keith Richards." I'm giddy with her acceptance. "Yes, you are a Keith. I should have known right away from the eyeliner and dangly things in your hair. You're my Keith Richards emulating seminarian, aren't you?"

She runs her fingers through the back of my head and it makes every hair on my body stand on end. Again, she makes me want to bark or purr, or do some sort of cute animal thing. It's almost ridiculous… it is ridiculous. It's stupid. Juvenile. _This isn't me, is it? _

I discover a new a new sensation, a dense ache that starts in my chest and expands to throat. The longing for Bella to take me—to love me, nearly matches my desire to protect and care for her. It's unfamiliar, uncomfortable.

"May I?" Bella breaks my reverie, startling me with her electric touch on my hand, but she's simply asking for my iPod.

"Sure." After she scrolls through, her eyes, framed by apprehensive brows, look up at me.

"Edward Masen, your most recently played songs are… tragic. This is some seriously sad stuff."

I shrug, "I missed you this week." She takes my hand and kisses my knuckles.

"I missed you, too." I don't want this—not her pity. She's worried about me worrying about her, and I'm worrying about her worrying about me, worrying… Oh fuck it_. My head hurts._ _Maybe this is why I never had a proper girlfriend._

"We're together now, Bella. Can I see that for a second," Bella hesitates, "I'll give it right back," she gives me the iPod and I take it in my far hand and hold it above my head.

"I'm not getting that back, am I?"

"No. I'll play D.J., you close your eyes, Bella, get some sleep."

"Are you kidding? I have three hours with you to finally ask a million questions, and you expect me to sleep? No, sir."

She turns in her seat, arms around Pedi, and examines me with the same look Charlie used.

"Let's see, where to start… " She taps her fingertip to her lips, playing with me, having no way of knowing that this is torture. "Oh, I know… tell me what it's like to be on the pill." Her delivery is deadpan; I'm impressed. And relieved, I've prepared for this one.

"Ah, yes, the pill. I thought you might have forgotten about that little slip up—seeing that you were a bit occupied at the time. What I meant to say was that I know. I know you are on the pill."

"I figured it was something like that. Alice told you?" I nod, still unsure how Bella really feels about my friendship with Alice.

"Hmm. I bet Alice told you all sorts of things about me." Bella sighs and it evolves into a yawn. "No fair, I still know nothing about you, Edward." I find the song I've been looking for and it begins to play. The cheerful guitar strings brings a sleepy smile to Bella's face. Her eyes close and she shifts, getting more comfortable.

'_Here comes the sun, do, do, do, do  
here comes the sun,  
and I say it's all right.  
Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter… _

"I have George Harrison on my iPod, what more could you need to know about me, Bella?"

"So much. So, so, so much," she mutters, nearly asleep.

"As soon as this song is over, I'll answer whatever you want."

"Mmm-hmm." And... she's out.

Bella is right, George Harrison is underrated. Maybe I can call her '_Little Darling_?' Nah, it's a mouthful, worse than Hospital Socks. I set the cruise control to the speed limit—a first—and roll my head around, stretching out my stiff muscles.

_Hi God._ _How you doing? It's been a busy day here, but you know that already. Thanks for knocking her out; I need a little time to process some things… I'm going to screw this up, aren't I? You know I struggle with the 'everything happens for a reason' thing, but if it is true, what's going on here? Why does she knock me over the way she does? Why does she scare me so much? I have no comparison for how I feel. Oh, God, I have so many questions..._

Harrison's, _My Sweet Lord_ begins to play and I have to laugh.

"_I really want to see you,  
Really want to be with you  
Really want to see you lord  
But it takes so long, my lord."_

_That's really funny. It takes so long, my Lord? Well, we have plenty to talk about tonight. Let's start with my calling; we'll work our way up to Bella. So, are we still thinking psychology—no church of my own? I'm not certain about that yet. I'm not certain about anything these days, really. _

I merge onto I-5, we're almost home; the three hours flew by. I've chronicled every detail of the last week, paying particular attention to the goddess in the woods. It was a gift to see her without her walls—one I might not receive again. Though I'm left with many questions, I at least have a new list:

1—Stay cool. If I can't understand my love for her—what feels like an overpowering, all-consuming, crushing love—there's no way she can.

2—Protect her. In the ways she refuses to protect herself, I will protect her.

3—Daily prayer. This was a good talk; I needed it.

4—Keep the car. God agrees that trading in this car for one with a dashboard control for my iPod would be a wasteful indulgence.

I pull up to her apartment—the bottom of the last inning. With the exception of a few unarticulated words, Bella slept quietly throughout the ride.

"Bella? Bella… we're home." Lightly, I stroke her the nape of her neck, easing her awake. She stirs in her seat. "Bella, honey…"

Eyes spring open, hands fly out and clutch the dashboard, bracing for a crash. _Holy Shit. _

"Bella, wake up, you're home." I pull her back into her seat.

"Yes, I know… I know," she's blinking rapidly, and fighting for composure. A nervous laugh stumbles from her mouth. My hand grips her shoulder so strongly, that I think I'm hurting her. I move to stroke her hair, instead.

"Okay, let's just take a minute."

"Mmm-hmm," she responds quickly, nodding her head, still fighting her battle. How did I not see this coming? I thought there were signs of her nightmares… is that what happened?

"Nightmare?"

"No, yes… I don't know… I'm okay. I'm okay, now." Bella takes a shuddering breath, her eyes examine me, "Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine," she holds my hand to her chest. I feel the hummingbird caged by her ribs.

"Edward, you're shaking." _I am?_ I pull my hand from hers and return to stroking her hair.

"No, I'm fine. Let's get you inside." I exit and run to her side of the car, hoping I can open her door for her, almost making it. I'm fast, but not that fast.

"Edward, how did you know where I live…? Alice?"

I nod and go to the trunk to get Bella's suitcase and my smaller bag.

"Is that yours? Are you staying?"

"Yes, Bella, I'm staying. Consider your nights occupied… at least until Alice gets home." _Please, God, no protest._

"Oh. Thank you." Progress_._

"I have a theory; tuck-ins work best from inside the bed."

"I like how you think, Edward Masen."

"I like when you don't fight me, Isabella Swan."

"I'm working on it."

"I'm glad."

As Bella puts her key in the door, she grimaces, "Edward… Alice and I are usually really clean. But, when we left for the, um, wedding. Well… it was a bad week, and…"

"Open the door, Bella" Now, it's my turn to worry.

We walk in, Bella leading the way, and her arm goes slack, her purse slips off her shoulder, onto the floor. Silent, slowing walking to the bouquet on dining room table, she finally whispers, "Calla lilies and roses…" Bella explores the room as she turns, her hand over her open mouth. "You did this."

"It really wasn't that messy. It didn't take long… " My voice trails off as I watch an astonished Bella move through the open space of her apartment. Her eyes drift to where I hung the artwork packed for the new condo, and to her bedroom, where she runs to the door, looks in and turns back to me, still gaping. She moves to the bookshelf in her living room. I follow her, cautious, as she looks at the new additions.

"That's, um… the Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi," she nods, of course she knows the prayer, but she's still mute and my anxiety grows, "You don't have to keep it here, or even keep it. It just reminds me so much of you… And, I found this picture of you and, um, Alice. And I really liked it—you're so… it's so happy." Her finger glides down the silver frame. "It's a new frame, a wedding present. Everyone wants you to keep the presents. Alice will explain everything tomorrow…"

Bella turns to me, and in an instant, her mouth is covering mine, her hands on my face.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Her words vibrate on my lips.

"You're welcome, Bella." My muscles unhinge with the knowledge of her acceptance, her willingness to take what little I have to offer. "It's late, let's get you ready for bed."

"Bed is good, a bath is better."

"Good idea." I carry our bags into her bedroom, take off my jacket, and throw it over her desk chair. Bella goes to her bureau and takes out some pajamas, then proceeds to remove most of the contents of the drawer.

"It's only half a drawer, but at least you won't have to live out of your bag." What? I can't even process what she just said. _A drawer?_ For me… I've never had a drawer before—I've never dared to dream of a drawer. I'm going to get special clothes, just to keep in this drawer, and a new set of toiletries. I'll make a list of things to put in _my drawer_. My things living with Bella's things—maybe they'll have babies and make little things.

"Edward, are you alright?"

"Oh yeah, baby, I'm fucking great. Thank you." She chortles, and comes to me planting another sweet kiss on my lips.

"I'm really glad you like your apartment, Bella."

"I'm really glad you like your drawer, Edward."

"I love my drawer, Bella."

"And I love my apartment, Edward." I swallow and step away from her before I say something stupid.

"Okay, I'm going to draw your bath."

"I'll put away a few things."

A few minutes later, Bella peeks into their small kitchen where I am busying myself.

"I'm heading in. Do you, um, want to join me?" I pause for a moment and Bella continues, "I'm not going to attack you... no hanky-panky… if that's okay."

"Of course it's okay. It would sort of defeat the purpose, don't you think?" Bella smiles with a bit of shame—and maybe rejection, I don't know. _Fix this._ "I'll try to control myself, it won't be easy, but I think I can do it."

"Thanks," I see a pink warm her cheeks.

"Oh, I forgot, put some bath salts in… that should help."

"I'd love to, but we don't have bath salts. Well… we didn't have any, but we do now, don't we, Edward?" I smile and nod.

"Gah, there's that look." My grin stretches across my face, there's no way to hide it.

"I'll be there in a few minutes."

"I'll be waiting."

The bathroom door is ajar, but I tap my knuckles just to be sure, "Come in," Bella's voice is soft and melodic, she sounds tranquil. I enter to find she is. All of the lights are off; only two flickering candles illuminate the room. Bella is neck deep in bubbles. The space is heavy with the sleepy scent of lavender.

"I heard the blender. I don't suppose you were making margaritas." She gently probes, amused and curious. I take off my shoes and socks.

"No margaritas, but I did make you something to drink."

"I'll have to tell Alice that blenders make things other than margaritas."

I place the glass on the vanity and begin to unbutton my shirt with shaky fingers. I've never been fully nude in front of her—in front of any woman. Well, there was Tanya, but…

"I hope you don't mind the dark," she whispers.

"No." As I pull off my undershirt, I feel immense gratitude for the dark. Though it could be worse, there's no way to hide, to fight, my body's response to her. Bella watching me undress makes me feel more naked than any physical representation of being unclothed could ever match. I pull my belt through the loops and turn away from her watchful eyes.

"I'm sorry. I won't look… it's just that…" I turn to see her adverting her eyes from me, "it's that you're so beautiful… it's… it's almost heart-breaking…" I don't know what to say. There's a sadness in her voice that I don't know how to counter. I'll try.

"You can, you can look. I'm… I don't know… shy. I like to look at you, too. You're so pretty, Bella." She begins to softly weep in her hands and I quickly finish disrobing, "Scoot up," and crawl behind her in the small bathtub. Pulling her into my chest, and wrapping my legs around hers, I kiss her neck and let her cry.

"Bella, you have plenty of reason to cry, but if this is about something particular… something I said or did, you can let me know, okay."

She sniffles, "No, you've done nothing wrong. You never do anything wrong, Edward." _She's been fooled._ "This is just me, feeling completely overwhelmed."

"How could you not, Bella? Shall I go over the events of the day?"

"No, thank you. I have them all running around in my head right now." I rub her shoulders and neck.

"Anything you want to talk about?" She sighs.

"I found a letter from Angela in my suitcase. She must have slipped it in before leaving."

"Did it say something to upset you?"

"No, Angela is… Angela is great. A saint, really. She ended the letter by saying, and I quote, 'I'm sorry for saying this on the day of your husband's funeral, but that Edward is perfect. Maybe someday you and he could dot, dot, dot." _I vote_ _Angela Weber for team captain._

"The letter doesn't sound so bad to me." Bella doesn't laugh. I turn her head to me, her tears have stopped, but she's contemplative.

"How could I…? How will I…? You're…"

"I'm not perfect, Bella." She turns her head back away, leaning back into my chest.

"To know Edward Masen is to adore Edward Masen. You probably have no enemies." _So misguided. Do I show her my list of enemies? _"Edward, is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?" _Lord, this is your gift, so I dare to ask._

"Yes, Isabella, there is, but it won't be easy."

"What is it?"

I whisper in her ear, "Surrender." She stiffens and I wait for her response.

And wait.

"Do you understand what I'm asking for?"

"Yes," she breathes.

"Let me take care of you, Bella. That's all I'm asking."

"I'm trying… I have a little trouble with balance. Being out of balance… in my relationships."

"I know you do… and I know you're trying. Keep trying, Bella. Please."

"I will."

"Thank you." I reach for her drink, "Here, have some of this, it will make you feel better."

"Vanilla milkshake?"

"Mmm-hmm." As she drinks, I relish the feel of Bella's back against my sore chest—the way she rises and falls with each of my breaths, carrying her.

"Do you like it?'

"Mmm-hmm."

"Try to drink all of it. You didn't finish your sandwich," I whisper into her neck.

"I ate the bread." I hear her smile. She sips again, "There's healthy stuff in here, isn't there?"

"Mmm… just some soy protein, vitamins, minerals… basic stuff."

"Good… thank you." I rub my hands over sharp corners created by the meeting of delicate bones, her shoulders, her elbows. "I bet this drink is at least a thousand calories."

"At least."

"Good." With one word, the brightly lit concern in the back of my mind finally dims. I've feared, but dared not say aloud, that Bella's sudden weight loss came by her conscious refusal of food. To hear that she welcomes the calories quiets that part of my mind.

"Isabella, can I ask you a question?"

"If I can ask you one."

"Seems fair." _It's alright, I can play this._

"You first." I'm not sure which I fear more, asking my question or hearing hers.

The picture framed on the bookshelf, has disturbed me since I found it. It is the kind of picture taken with an outstretched hand, blindly hoping to capture a happy instance of love and friendship. Two beaming faces expanding beyond the boarder of the photo. Bella's face is rounder, softer. Light brown eyes sparkle, and she's pink from the sun and laughter.

"How long ago did you take that picture with Alice?"

Bella's body freezes, hardens. I lock my legs around her and whisper in her ear, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… you don't have to answer that."

"No… it's okay." After a minute, she continues, "Um… we were on a friend's boat. The end of summer… August. It was about six weeks ago. Around the time that I started to suspect… you know…"

"I know."

"I… I look different."

"You're pretty… now, then… always."

"Thanks… um, can we be done talking about this now?"

"Sure."

"My turn?"

"Okay."

"Edward, what's a seminary student doing with a Gucci suit?"

"Um…" Salvation army? No. Present from Jasper? No, sounds gay… not that there's anything wrong with that. Won it in a contest? It's really Carlisle's? Charlie's? Ah, Fuck.

"Edward," Bella pulls at my forearms slowly crushing her chest. "You don't have to tell me tonight. But will you promise to tell me sometime?"

I drop my head to the back of hers, grateful. "Yes, I will Bella, I promise." _Thank you, Jesus. _

"Edward, when you start a relationship with sex and death, where do you go from there?"

"We'll figure it out."

~0~

I wait for her in bed, she insisted on a few minutes alone in the tub. As she paddles in, I open the covers for her to join me.

"Try to control yourself; I know I sleep in some pretty sexy stuff." She wears a thin, grey, Forks High School t-shirt, flannel pj pants, and hospital socks.

"Come here, Cold One, shuffy-shuffy." She crawls into bed, and I pull her to me and hand her Pedi.

"Cold One? These names are getting worse."

"Sorry. "

"What's shuffy-shuffy? Is that like hanky-panky?"

"No… God, I haven't said that expression in years." I close my eyes and take in the unmistakable smell of her. "My mom used to say it to me when I was a kid. It's Yiddish. I think the real phrase is 'gay shluffen,' it means, go to bed, or go to bed little one, something like that. Some say shluffy, but, my mom would say, shuffy-shuffy.

"To tell you to go to bed?"

"Or to ask if I was tired… or needed a cuddle, or something."

"Mmm, she sounds wonderful. I can't wait to meet her." I kiss Bella's temple and press her completely to me. From her head under my chin to her feet ending at my shins, this is my favorite way to feel Bella.

"Is she Jewish?" Bella yawns, we're both almost out.

"No. I grew up in a Jewish neighborhood. A lot rubbed off…"

"In Seattle?"

"No, Chicago." I hear Bella's soft groan.

"Oh, Edward… so many questions…"

"I know." I blow in Bella's ear—another childhood memory, "out, out, bad dreams." My own exhaustion is seeping in.

"Thanks."

"Mmm." I hang onto the edge until I hear her purr, and I finally slip away.

~o0o~

As I wait for Jasper at the gym, I consider Bella's words from last night:

_When you start a relationship with sex and death, where do you go from there? _

I have an idea.

Belly-  
Meet me at  
Kells Pub  
1916 Post Ally  
7:00?  
Take a cab  
-E

Her response is quick:

I hope 'Belly'  
Was a typo and  
Not a new nickname.  
RE-Kells-  
Will Do.  
Alice says hi.  
-B x

_Okay, Belly is out. _

.

.

* * *

A/N As my daddy would say, "The hands of the clock don't always stay at 6:30. They have to go back up again."

The link to the PPSS is on my profile. The pics they selected KILL ME. Perfect. They even got Pedi!

I'd love to hear what you think… that's a review button down there :)


	9. Closed Doors

A/N:

Thanks to The Perv Pack, A Different Forest rec's, and those of you who are spreading the word about this little story, we have more people at this little party than before. Thank you all very much for your support. I'm still so humbled.

So, I set up buffet in the living room, the bar is stocked, old faithful r/rs, please introduce yourself to the new folks.

Thanks for the advice, frstmdllast

Thanks to Team SGMR: orangeapeal, robsjenn, Sunshine, and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady.

I hope you enjoy…

.

.

* * *

Chapter Nine

Closed Doors

.

.

I am airborne, extending my body to reach the ball and,_ "Ugh!" _ I miss, falling chest-first on the wooden floor and sliding into the wall. "Fuck."

"Come on, best out five," Jasper says with far too much excitement and oxygen. _Isn't he even out of breath? _I roll over on my back, still completely wiped out.

"No, no… I'm done. You win… you win, again." I try to take a deep breath, but damn it hurts. I groan.

"Are you sure she didn't break a rib or something? That's some shiner she gave you."

"Nah. It really didn't hurt much last night. And don't exaggerate; you can barely see the bruise. Anyway, you almost always win at squash. How is that possible, anyway? I'm supposed to be the athlete." Jasper throws me my towel and slides down the wall, sitting beside me.

"First, I do hope you don't tell people you played ball in college, because really, that's pathetic, Edward. And second, do you really want to know why I always beat you at squash?"

"Almost always," I correct him.

"Because you're chasing the ball. If you watched me instead of the ball, you'd know what to expect. You're all heart, and no strategy." I look at him, upside down, my t-shirt is stuck to me with sweat, and he is merely perspiring.

"Come on," Jasper stands, offers his hand, and helps pull me up, "I won, you're buying lunch. I know the perfect place."

~0~

"Will this be one check or two?" The raven-haired server flashes her bright blue eyes between Jasper and me and I understand why we're here.

"This is on me. Thank you." I get a quick smile as I give her my menu, but when she turns to Jasper, her smile fades and her eyes settle on his. He pulls his menu away for just a moment, leaving her hand suspended, and her face amused.

"Thank you, ma'am." His drawl is thick in the presence of women. With just three words and one lingering look, she turns into a puddle.

"I, um, thank you. Your beers… will be right up… thank you." She giggles and nearly trips over her feet as she walks away. I'm somewhere between gagging and begging Jasper to teach me his accent.

"I thought you were done sowing your wild oats."

"I'm just flirting, keeping the tools sharp." _I have no tools._

"Alice won't fall for any of that shit. Consider yourself warned."

"We'll see about that. When do I get to meet this Alice, anyway?"

"She won't meet you until she's out of the hospital… a few days. How did she put it? 'I need to be properly dressed to receive a gentleman caller." Jasper chuckles—he knows I found his match.

"I like her."

"I told you. She's going to whip you right into shape."

"No one whips me into shape, Edward." His voice is defensive. I think Maria left scars that even Jasper doesn't see.

"So, I'm thinking that we'll get together for coffee, you'll meet, and if you hit it off—which I'm sure you will—we move onto The Plan."

"Someone sounds excited. Go ahead, I know you're dying to tell me about, _The Plan_."

"Well, I've been thinking that they've had a really shitty couple of weeks, right? So, maybe next weekend we can do the whole night on the town thing. You know, I'll send them to a spa in the morning for them to do… whatever women do at spas. And then we'll pick them up… dinner, dancing… we'll get a limo…"

"Stop."

The server returns with our beers, this time completely ignoring me and focusing on Jasper, when she's gone, he continues.

"Edward, you graduated Magna Cum Laude…"

"Summa. Summa Cum Laude."

"Even better. You graduated Summa Cum Laude, by far the brightest student in our program, and you are one the most perceptive, observant people I've ever known…" he pauses, and my embarrassment grows, I know I've said something stupid, but I don't know what.

"But…?" I take a drink as he searches for the words.

"But, when it comes to Bella… when it comes to women…" he's avoiding his sharp wit, which I appreciate, but I wish he would spit it out.

"I know. I'm an idiot. Tell me what I said wrong."

"Edward, you didn't say anything wrong, it's a very thoughtful idea. However," _a nicer word than but,_ "I don't think either of those women will want to be in a limo again any time soon, if ever. And, doesn't Alice have a broken pelvis? Do you think it's the best time to go dancing? Won't she be coming home in a wheelchair or something?" _Alice in a wheelchair? _

I shrug, deflated. I wanted to do something nice for them, something special. I wonder how many other stupid things I've said and done without Jasper here to point out my missteps.

The wet label of my beer bottle becomes my focus, ripping away at the bits of foil as I consider opening one of my closed doors and letting Jasper in. _Open._

"I'm leaving seminary and getting my PhD in Clinical Psych."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I'm leaving seminary."

"Since when?"

"Since right now."

"Ah… you know I think you should get your PhD, but do you mind telling me why? Why this decision, at this moment?"

"I'm sure Bella would rather be married to a therapist than a minister."

"I don't even know how to begin dissecting your statement."

"Forget it. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"No, I'm glad you brought it up. We need to talk about this, Edward. You are thinking about making a life altering decision based on a woman you met a week ago?"

"That's not the only reason."

"Did she tell you she didn't want to be with a minister?"

"No. Bella would never do that. She's… accepting. I'm sure I could do whatever I wanted and she'd never complain." _Why the fuck did I bring this up? _"Please, let's drop this, Jasper. I'm just in a weird mood."

"I know you're in a weird mood. You've been in a weird mood since you met her."

He's right. I have no response. I don't know what's happening to me.

"God, I'm hungry. Tell me we're not just here for the server. You said the food is really good here, right?"

"Yes, the food is excellent. I know the chef… You should bring Bella here sometime." Jasper's tone is even, measured. I'm his client. _Must. Change. Subject._

"Is the chef a client?"

"No, just a friend."

I run my fingers through my hair, an act so much more gratifying when it was longer. I can't take the silence. "Please stop looking at me like that, Jasper."

"Edward," he pauses again, monitoring each word. _Does he do this in session? He should really work on this._

"Spit it the fuck out, Jasper."

"Love is a drug—a chemically producing drug and you are high as a kite right now, my friend."

"And that's bad?"

"No, no, it's good… I just want you to protect yourself."

I scoff. _Protect myself? From Bella? _

"Well, don't worry about me. Who said I was in love, anyway?"

"Oh, wonderful. So we're being honest with ourselves these days?"

I play with my near-empty beer bottle and look around for our server. I'm pissed off and don't want to play this game anymore. _This is what I get for opening closed doors._

"I'm being a bastard, I'm sorry, Edward. You might not believe this from the way I've been acting, but I am very glad you found someone." I can see he is trying to be sincere. "You have a huge heart, it belongs in good hands."

"Thanks."

Our server brings our food, as well as her phone number for Jasper, and my angry monster is quieted. After the world's best BLT, and some of Jasper's arugula and prosciutto pizza—_God, I love pork—_I crack the door open again.

"You know, Jasper, I think if you met her… when you meet her, you'll like her. She's different. It's like she was made for me."

"I'm sure I will… so, what's the plan?"

"What do you mean? I thought we already killed the plan."

"I'm sure you have more than one plan. What's next?"

"Sort of a first date. I'm taking her out to dinner tonight."

"Good. Perfect. Yes… take it light, get to know her."

"Yeah, that's what I want to do…"

"And be yourself. You are funny and smart, a good guy."

"Thanks, Mom."

"Fucker. One more bit of advice… are you prepared to get defensive?"

"Yep."

"How about you let _her_ get to know _you_?"

I nod.

"You know what I am saying, Edward." he narrows his eyes at me until I concede.

"I do."

"Good. That will be $325.00; I'll have a bill sent out this afternoon."

_$325.00? Shit, I should be a therapist. _

~0~

I walk—no wait, I'm strutting—I strut into Kell's at 6:30 and immediately see a familiar face.

"Holy shit, Edward Masen. I haven't seen you here in ages," Riley greets me with a strong handshake, and his obvious Irish eyes.

"Riley, I knew I'd find you here. How's it going?"

"Great… going to school, working, the usual."

Before I order, he's already pouring me a Black and Tan. "What year are you in now?"

"I am a senior—graduating this year."

"Get the hell out of here."

"I know, can you believe it?"

"Man, Riley, I could swear it was yesterday and you were this little teenager clearing tables. Jeez, I'm getting old."

"Aren't we all?"

"Please, you're in your prime." Even as a kid, this golden boy caught everyone's eye.

He leans in and looks around the bar before saying, "I do okay." _Man-whore._ _I bet you're having fun. _

"So, you still going to own this place someday?"

"Yep, that's still the plan… got to keep it in the family."

"Nice."

I settle in my regular barstool at the far end of the bar and watch him work. We can have a full conversation, while he fills drink orders, washes glasses, and keeps the bar spotless. This restaurant is in his blood; he already owns it.

"So what brings an old-timer like you to our fine establishment tonight?"

"I'm here to meet a woman."

"What?" He quickly dries off his hands and walks over to shake my hand, "Congratulations, that's great, man." _Congratulations? What's with the welcome to the club mentality? I wonder if it's always been like this. Virgins don't walk around shaking hands because of our club. Well… at least no one ever shook my hand. _

"So you're looking to meet a _woman_?" He's grinning ear to ear, shaking his head like he still can't believe my intent.

"Yes, a woman," I grab a handful of peanuts, "I'm NOT GAY, Riley," and toss them in my mouth.

"Hey, you're a good looking guy… you can't blame people for wondering, right?" _God, when will people stop thinking I'm gay? Do I need to have sex with Bella on this bar and have everyone watch? Oh boy. Oh wow… sorry, God, you shouldn't have seen that._

"Do me a favor, help put the rumors to rest."

He leans in again, pretending to wipe down the already clean bar, "If you want to meet a woman, look at what just walked in."

Before I can clarify his misunderstanding, my eyes dart past him to the woman across from me at the far end of the bar… and then move no further. I'm… transfixed. I've never seen anything like her before: hair, wild, red—a mane of flames; glowing, alabaster skin; eyes, burning into mine. I cannot look away, hypnotized. Her tongue slips out and, with aching slowness, it glides first over her top then bottom full, wet lip.

She is Fire. She is Sin. She is Lucifer.

Unbidden… images of her… and me… things I would never do to…

"Yeah, she's something isn't she?" Riley's words break the trance. I close my eyes, to cut the connection and I hear her nefarious laugh at my expense. "And she's a real wild cat, if you know what I mean," he raises and eyebrow and gives a wicked grin.

I immediately want to lecture him about true love, and safe sex, and waiting… but instead I just say, "Be careful with that, Riley."

"I will," he rolls his eyes. "You want to meet her?"

"God no. I'm actually here to meet someone in particular, a date."

"Yeah… she's not the dating type."

"Got it, 'nough said."

"So, Edward Masen, you got yourself a girlfriend," he says this proudly, like he's the mentor. _How did we switch roles like this?_

"Sort of. I've known her for a little while, but I guess this is our first date."

"Well, good luck to you, Edward. You look good tonight, you're going to do well." And instantly, I'm no longer insulted that he's the mentor. I need his help.

"I do? Is this shirt okay?"

"Yes, I like it. The black is good. It's new, right? It's not faded. I hate when my black stuff gets faded."

"Yeah, it's new. But not too dressy, right?"

"No, no. It's good. Step away from the bar for a minute." I do so that he can inspect me, now totally willing to be under his wing.

"Good jeans. Relaxed, comfortable. Button fly?"

"Yes."

"Good, women love that," he smirks.

"Alright, enough with the women stuff Riley, you are too young to," I pull back my crescendo and lean in speaking through gritted teeth, "you are too young to be having sex."

"Edward, I'm 22."

"Exactly!" Out of nowhere, I make this eureka hand in the air gesture. I don't think I've ever made that gesture before.

Riley smiles and shakes his head. Maybe he thinks this is ridiculous, but I'm on a roll, "Are you in love, Riley?"

He throws his head back and sighs, I'm sure he's heard this lecture many times from his uncles, "well… don't have anymore sex until you're in love."

He turns the tables on me, "Are _you_ in love? Are you having sex?"

"I'll tell you later… when you're all grown up."

"Cop out," he mutters under his breath.

"Yes and yes." His face falls and he looks at me like maybe, just maybe, I've planted a seed. _God, this is a good kid, help him find love. And keep that Lucifer away from him… and from me… please, please, she scares the shit out of me… keep her away. _

Riley pours two shot glass of Jameson Irish Whiskey and hands one to me, "I'm happy for you, Edward." I stop myself before giving him the condescending, 'it will happen for you, too' speech. I've heard it too many times in my life to subject others to the same.

"Thank you." I raise my glass, "Sláinte."

"Sláinte."

We drink. It burns. I might be getting drunk.

"Is Patrick in the kitchen tonight?"

"Yep, he's back there."

"Do you think he'd mind…"

"No, go on back, he'd love to see you."

~0~

Nursing another beer, I sit at the dimly lit table in the corner of the far end of the bar. A familiar, but frustrating pattern emerges: the door opens, heads turn, and my breath catches, hoping… but it's not her.

I've prepared, I've prayed, there's little more I can do, but wait. I look at my watch, 7:01, the door opens again, heads turn, and stayed turned. It's Bella. I stand to meet her, but the voyeur in me enjoys hiding in the shadows, I sit back down and watch.

Although she's searching for me, her stride is confident. Wearing a long, light blue sweater, jeans, and sexy high-heel boots, she looks… a little taller somehow, and it's not because of the boots.

Bella comes right for me, but doesn't see me. Instead, she resides at the end of the bar, waiting for Riley's attention. Ignoring all other customers, he comes right to her and takes her order, giving her his flirtatious smile. _Yes, Riley, this is the kind of girl you want, but this one is mine._

I come up behind her and clear my throat.

"Oh. Edward… you startled me. I looked for you, but didn't see you."

"I'm sorry, have we met?" She frowns then looks around like she's just entered _The Twilight Zone. _

"Edward? What are you…?"

Riley returns, "One club soda, lime twist," and sees me standing there. "Oh, hey, you must be Edward's friend. I'm Riley." They shake hands; Bella is still puzzled.

"Bella Swan, um… nice to meet you Riley." Her eyes shift between us.

"If you need anything, just let me know. Edward is like family here."

"Thanks, Riley," I say. He winks at me and returns to the quickly filling bar.

As Bella sips through her straw, she examines me. No longer put off by my odd greeting, she now knows it's a riddle for her to figure out. It doesn't take long.

"Oh. Ohhh. Yes. I don't remember where we met… maybe I was mistaken. Maybe you just look like an Edward."

"And what does an Edward look like?"

"Well, it's an old fashioned name…"

"And I'm an old fashioned guy."

"I guess I just sensed that." A smile slowly creeps across her face as she grasps the game we're playing tonight.

"So, Miss Swan is it?"

"Ms. It's Ms. Swan."

"I beg your pardon."

"No need to beg, Edward, you have my pardon." _Holy Shit! I am totally channeling Jasper and it's working… she is sexy as fuck and I'm not doing too bad, either. _

"Ms. Swan, I am in quite a predicament this evening."

"Do tell."

"I was supposed to meet a friend here, but I think I've been stood up."

"Funny, I'm finding myself in a similar situation…"

"Really?" I nearly break into laughter at my bad acting on that line.

"Why yes," she stifles her laugh as well, but quickly composes herself, "my friend has left me waiting here all alone," she pouts. I twitch.

"Doesn't sound like a very good friend."

"No. Not good at all."

"And were you and this friend planning on dinner?"

"I think that might have been in the plans."

"Are you hungry?" I try to hide the real hope behind the question.

"Um… I could eat," she responds as Bella, not as Ms. Swan.

"Well, may I be so bold as to ask you to join me?"

"You may, Mr…?"

"Masen."

"You may, Mr. Masen"

"Wonderful. Would you like to stay here, or there are several places clo-"

"I'd like to stay here. After all… you are family."

"Yes. I guess I am." I signal Riley and he comes right away. _I'm family? I like that idea._

As he tops off Bella's club soda he asks if I'm ready for another beer.

"No. I think I'll have an old fashioned," Bella raises a flirtatious brow, "and we're going to stay for dinner."

"Great. I'll let Patrick know and send Molly over." Riley hands me my drink.

"Ms. Swan, would you like to accompany me to my table?" I offer my arm, escort her, and pull out her chair the way my father did for my mother. I take a seat across from her.

"Since we're having dinner together, it might be appropriate to allow the familiarity of first names," she says.

"Bella is it?"

"For most, yes. But, on occasion, someone pronounces my full name in such a way, that it leaves me longing to hear it again."

"And that name would be…"

"Isabella."

I mouth her name slowly, emphasizing each movement of my lips and tongue. Her hooded eyes fix on my mouth, and then I breathe it aloud, "Isabella."

"Mmmm." She leans in, as if for a kiss, but I pull back, fractionally.

"Ah-uh. Not on a first date," I whisper. She lets out a tiny, frustrated sound, and I raise my hands in a way to say, 'I'm just following the rules.' Narrowing her eyes, she shakes her head and silently communicates retribution for my denial. In that moment, I decide to write _GQ,_ thanking them on their article about how to build anticipation for a night of great sex.

Our server, Molly, who has probably been here since before I was born, stops by and tells us that dinner will be up shortly.

"Don't they have menus here?" _Oops._ She's perturbed.

"Um… yeah… but I sort of took the liberty of ordering for us."

"That's… that's nice of you Edward, but…" she's anguished, something is wrong, "… I just can't eat a lot of things right now."

"I know, I know Bella… I ordered some little plates. A lot of different things on the menu… just different things to try." With her hands flat on the table, eyes closed, she tries to gather herself. _Is she that pissed? _

"It's very nice. Thank you. I'm sorry I sort of snapped." She takes another deep breath, and plants a counterfeit smile across her face, "So… Edward Masen, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

"Bella, what happened? Tell me, did something happen today?" She opens her mouth as if to speak, then takes another drink of soda. "Tell me."

"Are you sure? We can talk?" She's been holding back because of my little game. The truth is we can only pretend for so long that her life isn't spinning out of control.

"Of course." I move my chair to be next to her, this first-date distance seems so wrong for who we are, what we do. "Is it Alice? Did something happen?"

"Alice is alright… um… she will be alright… but it was a mad house at the hospital today, Edward." I rub her neck and feel the tension, the labor, of concealing information. The words rush out of her and her muscles relax. "Her parents called in a specialist, a hot-shot orthopedic surgeon…"

"I thought her parents were leaving today."

"Not anymore. And this doctor—although he won't come right out and say it—clearly doesn't like the procedure the other doctor used. The external fixation… you know the bolts and brace thing. The new doctor is suggesting another surgery… a different procedure."

"Oh, shit."

"Mrs. Brandon doesn't want her to have more surgery, but Mr. Brandon did some research about the external brace… and sepsis… and… fatality rates… and he's ranting, and they're arguing… and all of this is happening front of Alice." Bella runs her fingers through her hair and groans.

"How is Alice? How is she holding up?"

"Alice is… Alice is blue."

"Blue?"

"Yes, and that is saying a lot for Alice. That means she's really in bad shape."

I stand and take Bella's hand, "Come on, let's go."

"What?"

"Let's go to the hospital."

"You would do that?"

"Of course."

Bella hesitates, then tugs on my hand, bringing me back to my chair. "It wouldn't do any good... I just came from there. Visiting hours are almost over and anyway… she's already knocked out on morphine." The helium-filled Bella who walked into this bar is now deflated.

"She's back on morphine?"

Bella nods and I pull her into me, her head falling onto my shoulder. We sit like this for several minutes; Bella slides her arms around my waist as I rub her upper arm. I don't know how Alice's condition could have changed so quickly. Two days ago we were planning her homecoming… was she hiding it from me? I take Bella's hand from my waist and kiss her bruised knuckles.

"Edward, can I ask you a favor?"

"Mmm-hmm." She peeks up at me, and since she requests nothing of me, I brace myself.

"I needed time alone with Alice today… so I appreciate… I understand why you didn't come to the hospital. But, I think she misses you. Please don't stay away from Alice because of me."

"I won't." Bella either doesn't know of Alice's unreturned texts or she's letting me off easy. "Should we go in the morning?"

Bella nestles her head back on my shoulder, "Yes."

I kiss her hair. "You smell good."

"Thanks. So do you," she sighs.

"Do you want to go home?" Our flirtatious game seems silly now.

"No… I don't." After a moment, Bella sits up and takes a sip of my old fashion—a wince, a cough, and a little smile. "I was having fun. I liked forgetting about… well, forgetting about my life." Her I'm-so-fucked-I-don't-care anymore humor is slowly returning. "More importantly," she takes my hand in hers, "I want to know you Mr. Edward Masen. I really want to know you. So, if you'll have me, I'd like to continue on our date."

"Ms. Swan, I'd very much like to have you… in every way you can imagine."

"Ah-uh. Not on a first date." Thinking she's joking, I lean in for a kiss, but she pulls away and gives the same, 'I didn't make the rules' gesture.

Molly returns, "How are your drinks doing?"

"I'm fine," I look to Bella, "How are you?"

"I'd like a glass of white wine, please." _Do not look worried, Edward. Do not look worried._ Bella looks back at me and I give her a bright smile, "Please don't worry, Edward," which is quite unconvincing.

"I'm not." I aim for expressionless.

Molly leaves as Bella stands, "I'm going to freshen up, and when I return…"

"The date's back on." A smile and she's gone. _Jesus. Can we, can she, have one carefree day, or at least one night? Is it too much to ask? Sorry… I don't mean to sound so frustrated. Thank you for giving me Bella. Amen._

The food arrives while Bella is away. _Fuck… it's a lot of food. Please don't freak out Bella._ Molly and I pull over another small table for our food. Now it's more like a personal buffet. Better.

"Oh my. A few things from the menu?" Fortunately, she's in good humor.

"Can I make you a plate?"

"Sure."

"Omelet?"

"They have omelets on the dinner menu?" I begin to make our plates, and she lets me.

"They do tonight. Crab cake?"

"Yes, please. And can I have a little bit of that salad?"

"Coming right up."

We settle in and start to eat.

"So, Mr. Masen, can I ask what you do for a living?"

"I'm a graduate student."

"Really, what are you studying?"

"Theology." _Yes, Bella, that is my first date answer. Not that I've had many first dates. _

"Theology… very interesting. And with that, you hope to…?"

"Oh, the possibilities are limitless. And you, Is-a-bell-a?"

"Me what?"

"Are you in school?"

"I was, but I graduated." My father's voice is in my head, '_Edward, never ask a women her age.'_

"And when did you graduate?"

"Last spring." I cough on my drink_. She can't be that young? Can she? What the fuck?_

She laughs, "But… um… I'm a little older than your average graduate. I'm twenty-four." _Thank God._

"I took some time off and went part-time some semesters."

"Really?"

"Yes. I guess I'm a 'pay as you go' kind of gal. So, I cobbled together some scholarships, worked a whole lot, took out a few _small_ loans… but, in the end, it wasn't always enough… so, on occasion, instead of school, I worked," she shrugs. _Why didn't I meet you ten years ago?_ No… maybe this is better.

"U-Dub?"

"No, Seattle University." _Catholic._

"Really? Don't get me wrong it's a great school… "

"I know, expensive. Lots of scholarships for incoming students, but they wane as you go. I didn't realize that at the time. But, I fell in love with the place, so I stayed. And are you a U-Dub grad, Edward?"

"I am. I'm a proud Husky."

"When did you graduate?"

"A few years ago." I smile, knowing her real question.

"A few years ago?" I nod, forcing her to ask. "Edward, for goodness sake, how old are you?"

"I'm seventeen, Bella."

"Seventeen? Oh, you're funny. Come on, Mr. Masen, tell me. "

"I turned twenty-six a couple of months ago." _That sounds a little younger than, twenty-six._ I wait for a look of approval but instead get one of confusion. "Is that too old?" _Great. Like I can change it now._

"No. Of course not, I'm just wondering how you spent your time between graduation and sem-… theology graduate school."

"I worked, too."

"Worked…?"_ You want more?_

"In industry."

"What kind of industry?" _More, still?_ A long drink of cold bourbon does nothing to put out the fire in my chest. She's still waiting, patiently.

"My parents used to own a small investment firm in Chicago, they moved it here to Seattle. That's how I met Esme and Carlisle. Esme handles the real estate investments… they're friends of the family. After graduation, I worked for the company."

"That's funny. It doesn't sound like you at all."

"Well, maybe that's why I'm not in it anymore."

"But you were a Psych major?"

"And an Econ minor."

"Huh."

"And a second minor in Gender Studies."

"You were?" _Oh, I hate to break her heart, but…_

"No, not really. I just thought you'd like to hear that."

"Shame on you. You are one good liar, Edward Masen."

"Enough about me. What did you major in?"

"Pre-law."

"Very interesting. So, I'm assuming law school is in the future."

"That was the plan… I thought maybe in two or three years, after… well, things change. Anyway, the program mixed courses in Political Science and Criminal Justice and I started to think maybe I'd take the Criminal Justice route for graduate school." _Why Criminal Justice? Why not patent law? Why not hiding behind a desk, and working on contracts… or taking care of people, you're good at that… a nurse, or a teacher? You would make a good teacher, Ms. Swan. _

"Um… why are you… why would you…?"

"I don't know. I like investigation, criminal investigation… unraveling mysteries, searching for truth. My Dad was over the moon with the idea, but then he got all freaked out… he's a police chief."

"He got all freaked out because he was worried about you, right? He doesn't want you spending your days pissing off criminals, right? I can't say that I blame him." I try to control my voice, but instead it comes off angry and judgmental.

"Edward, calm down. It's not like the movies or television… it's not that dangerous."

"Oh, and Charlie doesn't know how dangerous it is?"

"You know… you should really try this crab cake." She brings her crab filled fork to my mouth and I sigh before giving into her topic change. I let her feed me and she bats her lashes, exaggeratedly, teasing me with her win. "Good, right?"

"Good." I've tried to hide that I've calculated each bite, observing how little she's eaten. "How is everything?"

"Delicious, thank you. I'm getting full."

"Here, I'd like you to try some of this steak." I bring a fork to her mouth, and she eyes it, warily, before opening. Wet lips sliding over my fork, "Good, right?" Part of my brain is focused on the way her jaw moves when she eats, how licks her wet lips, the gentle bob of her throat as she swallows. The other part is focused on protein, iron, and vitamin K.

"Mmm… really good. It just tastes like steak. Not too salty."

"I asked them to pull back on the seasoning."

"You did?" I nod and push down the corners of my mouth. Bella kisses my palm and whispers, "Thank you."

"Another bite."

"No… I'm full."

_Should I drop it? No. There is no way she ate at the hospital._ I lean in and whisper, "One more… please, Bella." _Surrender. _A tentative nod, and another bite. "Thank you."

Molly is back at our table, "Edward, Bella, how is everything? More drinks?"

"Everything is wonderful, Molly, thank Patrick for us. I'm okay on a drink. Bella?"

"I'm still working on my wine, but I'd love a cup of coffee."

"Regular, de-cafe, or Irish?"

"Regular for me, I could use a little pick me up."

"Edward? Irish?"

"Um… sure. Thanks, Molly."

"You're not going to get drunk on me, are you?"

"Not planning on it." My buzz is wearing off and I need little more liquid courage.

"Did you catch that she called me Bella?"

"Yes. You're family now, too." _We're family._

"Do you come here often?

"Oh, Ms. Swan. Your pick up lines are a little trite_." Giggles, we're back to giggles._ "Ah… I used to come here with Jasper a lot—in college—and when I worked. I haven't been here much lately."

"Is this Jasper a fine upstanding citizen? The kind one might allow to meet a best friend?"

"Yes. He's smart, has a wicked sense of humor, and would come to the Four Seasons at the crack of dawn to bring a friend a decent set of clothes."

"Ohhh, so this is the mystery man. Okay, he passes my initial test."

Molly returns with our coffee. "Thanks Molly, I think we're ready for our check," I look at Bella, and she nods her approval.

"Not tonight, Edward. This is one's the house."

"No, Molly, please…" _Fuck. I hate when people pick up the check._

"No arguing, Edward. We're glad to see you. And we're especially glad to meet you, Bella." Molly's smile is motherly.

Bella grabs my hand and gives a good squeeze, "He's a good boy, isn't he Molly?"

"Yes he is, Bella, a very good boy." _God, this is so embarrassing._

"Thank you, Molly, and thank," I wave my hand around knowing that this is probably the doing of many people, "everyone."

Once alone, Bella turns to me, "You are a good boy, Edward. A good man."

"Stop. You don't even know me… it's only our first date." She rolls her eyes.

"Mr. Masen, I've enjoyed meeting this family. Will I get to meet the other one?"

"Yes." _But not for a very long time_. "That reminds me, Esme and Carlisle want you to come over for dinner on Sunday. Carlisle really feels bad that he had the conference and missed the funeral."

"Oh, he shouldn't feel bad. But, yes, that would be lovely. Are your parents going to be there?"

"No. They're not." I don't want to be short with her, but my contrived story about them no longer makes sense to me. '_I don't talk to them anymore._' But I do. '_They aren't in Seattle_.' But they are; they are everywhere. Everything is tangled in my mind; I swallow and try again. "They've been traveling… for a while."

"That's nice. How do they do that, with the company and all?"

"Huh?"

"I've always wondered how people manage to travel while they work. Are they able to enjoy themselves, or are they always emailing and on their cell phones?

"Ah… they gave up full control of the company a while ago." My voice sounds as tight as my chest feels. I need to navigate away from this, quickly. I hear the band start sound checks in the other room, and I think it's our cue to leave. "Enough information for one night?"

"Information? I thought we were talking." As easy as it is to inflate her, it is easier to deflate her.

I try lighten my voice and pretend I don't see her hurt, "Oh, yeah. That's what I mean… talking, information… same thing, right? What I meant to ask is if you want to go home."

"Oh. Right… sure, let's go." Bella seems willing to play along, pretending we didn't have a tense moment where my insecurities played the role of critic.

"Shall we?"

We stand to leave and, before I can take her hand, Bella sways and leans into the wall for support. "Hey… sit back down." I guide her back to the chair, kneel in front of her and inspect her face—looking for only God knows what.

"A little light headed, I'm fine." She giggles her nervous, 'I'm fine' laugh that is a world apart from the real sound. "I guess I shouldn't have had that wine after all."

"Bella, you didn't even have half a glass."

"I guess I'm a lightweight these days."

"Do you feel sick?" _Was it the food? Not enough food?_

"Nope… no, not at all." This time last night, she exorcised demons in the woods, a day at the hospital, and now, bizarro date. I'd be light headed, too.

She presses her forehead onto mine, and places her hands on my face, rubbing her thumbs through my sideburns, "I'm more than fine, I'm great." Her words and movements are sentimental, characteristically tipsy; maybe a half of glass is her limit right now. "Tell me I'm great, Edward."

"You're great, Bella." _So much more than great._

"And we're great? Tell me we're great."

"We're great, baby… and I'm going to take you home now, okay?"

"Ah-uh… not on a first date, Mr. Masen… besides, my evenings are occupied." She pulls away and gives me a seductive grin.

"Oh, I like that look."_ Quick decision to be made: a shot of Jameson on the way out to catch up with her, or keep this warm buzz level so I can take care of her? Damn it. The Keith Richard in me loses, the seminarian wins. _"Up you go."

We walk out arm and arm, Bella leaning on me slightly, and me—chest-out, proud to be leaving this bar for the first time with a woman wrapped around me. As we exit, I hear the sadistic cackle of Lucifer from somewhere deep within the bar. '_The devil prowls about, lion-like, looking for someone to devour.'_

The crisp night air helps clear my fuzzy head. "What will it be Isabella, your place or mine?"

"Mr. Masen, your pick up lines are trite." She giggles a new, slightly drunk sound. "Wait. Are you serious? Can we go to your place?"

"Yes… if you want. We could walk, but I think a cab ride would be in order."

"Yes. Yes, please, let me see your home." I'm surprised by her exuberance.

"Sure… um… yes, I want to show you my place."

"You do? Because I really want to know you, Edward." The same words that started the night here, end them. Have I not divulged enough?

I could ride in the cab all night, but it's only a few blocks. Her legs, across my legs, my hand on her thigh, her face pressed against my chest. I'm disappointed when we arrive.

"You live here? The Vine?"

"Uh-huh." My stomach drops at her shock, but this is something I have to do. Though I thought I shared much of myself tonight, I realize I need to give her more.

We walk into the lobby I no longer notice, but through her eyes it's 'beautiful,' and 'sophisticated, yet inviting.'

After making my way through several locks, I hear the last 'click,' and I open the door. "Welcome to my place, Bella." If it wasn't for my nerves, I would carry her over the threshold. Hesitating before she walks through, she turns to me, and like she's receiving a great gift, softly says, "Thank you."

She takes in the space from the entryway, but before we go any further, there is business to attend to. "Bella, I want show you something. I like to be sure the door is locked while we're in here." I click each lock.

"Edward, you have like four bolts on this door. I don't think you have to worry about the area. Don't you trust your neighbors?"

"No. I don't… I mean, I do… but, here, I made this key for you." I place it in her palm and close her fingers around it. "It will open all of the locks from the outside. Other than the front door, there are only two internal locks, one on each bathroom. You have a master key, it will open everything."

"You made me a key?" This isn't like giving her a drawer, this is important.

"Yes. Please put it on your keychain."

"Oh, okay. You have a thing about locks." She isn't asking. I see now that my intensity is scaring her.

"I just want to keep you safe. You can never be too safe, right?"

"Right… I guess." _Another tactic._

"Apartment and condo theft… the amount of stolen property per year is pretty staggering."

"Yeah, that's true. I guess I don't think about it much, I don't have a lot worth stealing." She says, distracted.

"The grand tour?"

"Please." And she's back with me again.

"Okay, to the right, the kitchen. A little small, but functional."

"You call this small. Wow… these appliances… do you cook?"

"I try."

"I'd love to cook with these."

"Please, any time. And in the fridge, a month's supply of Pedialyte." I take out strawberry variety, and fill two wine glasses pretending it's _rosé._

"What, do own stock in the company?"

"I wish. Abbot's been showing excellent profits for years. The big money was to be made if we got in a few years ago._" __Oh, you were joking weren't you? People say that casually, don't they?_ I hand her a glass and we continue the tour. "And across the hall, a bathroom."

_"_Nice. Tasteful. Crazy-clean."

"Yeah, that's not me. I have someone who comes in and cleans. And right here, there's a…"

"Oh, wait… can I?" She looks down the hall and into the living area.

"Yeah, sure."

"Edward, this is the nicest condo I've ever seen… and I've seen a lot of condos in the past few months… but not in this price range," she swallows her last words. I always thought this place was modest. It's no Escala, but I know it's more than what people expect from a grad student. "This view of the waterfront. This isn't even a window… it's a wall of glass. Balcony?" She doesn't seem to be even talking to me, but I respond.

"Yes."

"Fireplace… I love fireplaces."

"Me too. It's just a gas fireplace, but it's okay."

"Just gas," she whispers and shakes her head. "Built-ins… built in bookshelves. So many books."

"Bella, is something wrong?"

"No, no… it's fantastic. You must have been quite good at your job."

"I did okay." _Bella, what's going on? Tell me._

"You should be proud of yourself." _Proud?_ "I guess this explains the Gucci suit."

Bella is quiet for several moments as she stares out the window. I take her glass, and place both on the end table. Wrapping my arms around her I try, in vain, to read her mind. The reflection staring back at us in the glass, takes my breath away. "So, are you going to tell me what you are thinking or am I going to have to pry it out of you?"

"Pry it out of me? That sounds fun. The place is stunning, thank you for showing it to me."

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what else are you thinking?"

"I'm just being silly."

"Please tell me." She shrugs, "I just can't get over how this poor girl from Forks continues to draw in, surround herself, with rich people." _Rich people._ It hangs in the air. I want to tell her that I'm not rich, but…

"You're not poor, Bella."

"Well, I know, but comparatively… if this is what you can afford with just a few years of work, your parents' house must be heavenly." There's no way to respond to her comment. "I can only image what you thought of mine and Charlie's house."

I turn her towards me and hold onto her shoulders, "Don't say that… don't ever say that. Your house is perfect. It is so full of love, you can… you can feel it before you walk through the door."

"It is, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Even when it's full of cock-suckers, you can still feel the love," she smiles and wraps her arms around me. I sway her and keep talking, still watching our reflection, "In fact, I think we should move to Forks. Me, you, and Charlie living in the house of love." The sound of her laugh reverberates in my chest.

"It would be close quarters."

"That's okay."

"We'd have to be really quiet, you can hear everything."

"Well, that might be a problem. I like to hear you scream. I mean, scream in pleasure."

"I know what you mean." She sighs in contentment—maybe it's a yawn.

"I know you're tired, it's been a long day, shuffy-shuffy?"

She looks up at me, "Oh, you are a tease. I thought there might be hanky-panky."

"I think I can fulfill that request."

"You haven't kissed me yet."

"Oh, Bella, so demanding. Alright, if you insist." Our kiss is awkward because neither one of us of can control our smiles. We alternate between innocent kisses and Cheshire grins. "Would you like to see more of the place?"

"Yes, Edward, I would like to see more of your home." And the way she says home makes me think of this space differently—with her here, it's not a 'condo,' or a 'place,' it's a home.

"Bedroom?" she asks and raises an eyebrow.

"Upstairs." Bella looks past me and notices the second story loft.

"Shall we?"

"Patience is a virtue, Bella. Can I show you my office first?"

"Oh, yes. Especially if there's a computer and a desk. Those things really turn me on."

"Really?"

"No. But, yes Edward, show me your office."

We walk back down the hallway and I open the door next to the bathroom. Bella immediately goes to my bookshelf. "Ah-ha, now I know why you wanted to come in here. _Baseball trophies?_"

"Just a few."

"You played baseball?" I nod, a little embarrassed thinking of Jasper's comments from earlier today.

"At U-Dub?"

"Um, yeah."

"Oh, that's hot." _Ha! Screw you, Jasper._ "What position did you play?" I've never wanted to be a pitcher more than in this moment of my life. "You weren't a pitcher were you?"

"Um, no."

"Good. They're the prima donnas of the sport," ___You were fucking made for me Isabella Swan._

"But you were an infielder…." Her investigative skills become more apparent each minute I know her, "…second base? Short stop?"

"Short stop."

"Yes… quick, smart… I'm impressed." _Is it too late to go outside and have a catch?_ "And more books, may I?"

"Of course." She plops down on the floor and examines my collection.

"I'm not quite as proud of this reading, the headier stuff is in the living room."

"Oh, you should be proud of these too," Bella runs her fingers along the spines as she examines the collection, still talking to me, but giving her attention to the books. "Eggars… Irving… some of my favorites. You're a reader."

"Yeah, it's my favorite form escape."

"Me too… well it used to be."

"Not any more?"

"No. Now you're my favorite form of escape." Though it takes me a moment to absorb her words, she doesn't even look up, simply continues to go through my collection._ "__She's Come Undone_…"

"Yeah, did you know that the author, Wally Lamb, is a Psychology professor?"

"No I didn't. The poor woman in this book is really messed up."

"Well, not all the way through, just at the beginning."

"Hmmm," Bella knocks at the back of the bookshelf, and moves to examine it more thoroughly. "Edward, is there some sort of secret compartment back here?"

"No… not really secret, it's a place to store books you don't want lying around for people to see."

"So it's a hidden space to keep away from others, but it's not a secret?" _Good point._

"Semantics," I shrug.

"Will you let me see?" I look down at that sweet face that I have such difficulty denying.

"Are you sure, Bella? Curiosity killed the cat."

"Meow." _Oh, you sexy kitten._ When she begins to purr, I give in.

"Okay, scoot over. This layer of shelves slides out to reveal more shelves." Bella crawls away from the bookcase and I push the two parts from the center, and they slide open to reveal a second set of shelves. I brace myself for her reaction.

"Holy mother of over-the-counter porn."

"Hey, this is not porn."

"I give you that with _GQ_ and _Men's Health_, but _Maxim_… _FHM_?" Her mouth hangs open in surprise, but she's definitely amused too.

"What is this, like six year's worth?

"Something like that." She pulls out a random _GQ_, and I let out a nervous sound.

"You have these in a particular order, don't you?"

"Sort of. But don't worry, I'll be able to find its proper place."

"Post-it notes?"

I nod.

"Easy to find articles?" I nod again, and shrug apologetically. "May I?" Another nod, and she turns to the first post-it note. "_Ten Things You Should Never Say in Bed_." Narrowed eyes look up at me, "Are you sure you were a virgin when I met you."

"Positive."

She puts back the magazine from where it came, thank goodness, and takes out an _FHM_, stares at it, then flips it around to show me the cover. One of my favorites… Katy Perry wearing in a see-through nightie and looking over her shoulder at me. Bella raises her brows. I think I'm supposed to say something.

"Bella, that's not bad. That's probably the most modest cover in the bunch." _I am not helping my case._

"Edward, you are a naughty boy. A naughty, naughty, perverted boy, aren't you?

"No, no… I'm not. I'm just… you know… I read the articles… and well… yes, you're right. I am a naughty, perverted boy." Bella smirks, playfully. "But this collection is sort of my research."

"Research? What are they teaching you in seminary? Do I need to have a talk with Carlisle? "

"No… please. Not seminary research, life research. I've been preparing."

"Preparing for what?"

"Preparing for the day I met you." Though she attempts to continue her pretend scowl, her face gives her away—lips pressed between her teeth, cheeks warm to a girlish pink. She begins to leaf through a _Men's Health_, landing on something that catches her attention.

"Bella, do you think we could we peruse the magazine section tomorrow? I'd like…"

"Shh…" she holds her finger up as she continues to read, "just a second..." her finger slams down on the page, "_transverse abdominus!_ That's what it's called."

"Transverse abdominus?"

"Yes… you know, that flat… triangle… stomach muscle… oh, never mind." She closes the magazine and tosses it to the side, looking more red now than pink.

"You mean this?" I pull my shirt from my jeans, just enough to reveal a few inches of flesh.

"Yes, that…. I want to kiss it."

"I'm not going anywhere." _Who am I?_ On her hands and knees, Bella seductively crawls over to where I'm standing against the wall for support. _Who is she?_ Each movement takes me from my usual, slightly aroused state to an uncomfortable strain in my jeans. Looking up at me with deep brown eyes, she hooks her fingers into my belt loops, wets her lips, and plants one moist kiss under my navel. Holy shit. _I am not getting a blowjob from Bella Swan. _

Bella sits back on her heals and undoes the bottom buttons of my shirt, opening it to reveal more of my stomach. With the exception of the pounding rhythm of my heart, the room is silent. Another look up at me with deep, hooded eyes, and Bella leans in again and drags her tongue down my thin line of hair to my fly. My head hits the wall and I gasp. _I am not getting a blowjob from Bella Swan. _

I close my eyes and consider baseball games I could replay to make this all last, because I feel her fingers at the top button of my fly. Plunging my hands into her thick head of hair, I begin to massage her scalp - my breath already out of control, my erection pulsing out its plea for release—I think it's Morse Code. Her fingers stop, her body stiffens, and I look down to catch wide eyes of panic staring at my transverse abdominus an inch from her face. _I am not getting a blowjob from Bella Swan._

I'm sure she's never done this before, and we don't need to start tonight. I try to speak, but the words are strangled at first. "Bel… Bell..ah… I apra… I appreciate the offer, but I have other plans for you tonight."

She grabs my hands and sits back on her heels, breathing out her dread. "Good, because I never give oral on a first date."

"Duly noted."

"So, what do you have planned for me?"

I join her on my knees, and she strokes her fingers across my bruised cheek, I'm so grateful she hasn't mentioned it. With one hand at the nape of her neck and one hand on her lower back, I lean into her and trail wet kisses, sucking her flesh from behind her ear to her collarbone. Her muscles loosen in my arms. I drag my hands down her body, and cup her backside, before grinding it into me.

"Tell me, Edward…" she pants out.

"Upstairs."

She squeals when I stand and throw her over my shoulder. I take the steps two at a time, and unfurl her onto the bed; she bounces and gives another squeal before breaking out in a fit of laughter. As I stand, watching her roll around our bed, I wish I had a camera. I want this moment to be captured forever—so instead, I just look at her, burning the vision into my mind.

"Big bed." She laughs and rolls again.

"Yes. Big bed," I say taking off my shoes and socks.

"What? No more tour?"

"The tour is on hold until tomorrow."

"Mmm. So, are you going to answer my question? What do you intend to do with me?"

"Well, Isabella…" I say, emphasizing each syllable. "I'm not sure if you've noticed," I say, pulling off each boot, "fucking sexy boots, by the way…" and throw them over my shoulder.

"Thanks… I'll tell Alice, they're hers," she laughs and I crawl up onto the bed, between her legs, "noticed what?"

I begin to unbutton and unzip her jeans, "Each time we've been together, you have been the instigator…"

"Yes, thank you for mentioning it… I'm painfully aware of that little pattern."

"No worries," I crawl back down off the bed, "I thought tonight I could wear the pants, while you Isabella Swan," I hold onto the cuffs at the bottom of her jeans, "wear none," and pull them off in one swift move, and she squeals once more. _Fuck yeah, I've been thinking about that move all day. _

"Oh, my."

.

.

.

* * *

A/N:

Oh, my... did I just do that? Worry not. You will get this lemon in full detail in the next update—two weeks.

Also, you can follow me on twitter where I have nothing interesting to say. LizLemonBennett.

I promised an outtake of Saintward's (edging out 'Seminaryward' in the poll) search for handkerchiefs to celebrate hitting 500 reviews. I'll post it as a chapter in the 'She Gives Me Religion Teasers'—I just need a couple more days.

Teaser next Saturday.

I truly appreciate reviews.

-Liz x


	10. Balance

**A/N:**

RL has been amazing and busy. My only regret is that I could not respond to more of your lovely reviews.

Thanks to SGMR: orangeapeal (for pre-reading), robsjenn, Sunshine, and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady.

More thanks and a message at the end. I've kept you waiting long enough…

.

.

* * *

Chapter Nine:

"_Well, Isabella…" I say, emphasizing each syllable. "I'm not sure if you've noticed," I say, pulling off each boot, "fucking sexy boots, by the way…" and throw them over my shoulder._

"_Thanks… I'll tell Alice, they're hers," she laughs and I crawl up onto the bed, between her legs, "noticed what?"_

_I begin to unbutton and unzip her jeans, "Each time we've been together, you have been the instigator…"_

"_Yes, thank you for mentioning it… I'm painfully aware of that little pattern."_

"_No worries," I crawl back down off the bed, "I thought tonight I could wear the pants, while you Isabella Swan," I hold onto the cuffs at the bottom of her jeans, "wear none," and pull them off in one swift move, and she squeals once more. Fuck yeah, I've been thinking about that move all day. _

"_Oh, my."_

.

.

* * *

Chapter Ten

Balance

.

.

Bella bites her nail in a coquettish manner as I unbutton my shirt and throw it behind me with the same exaggerated flair as tossing her boots.

"Come here." I grab her ankles and pull her to the end of the bed and she rewards me with her steady stream of laughter. "I want to tell you something."

She sits up, squirming with excitement. "Yes?"

"First, I want to tell you how much I like this sweater. It's a beautiful color on you." I take the hem of the sweater, pull it up over her head and watch her hair cascade back down to her shoulders. Folding it carefully, I place the sweater on the chair behind me.

Before I can turn around, I hear, "Lights please." Her voice is quiet and sweet.

"Tell me when."

Sliding the dimmer switch down, until the lights are almost off, I hear, "When."

My eyes adjust to the darkness as I walk back over to her. We are nothing but shadow and light. She slides a finger over the fly of my jeans, "May I? It's only fair." Before I can answer, she's unbuttoning my fly and helping me push my jeans off. "I like these," she says, running her finger around the waistband of my boxer briefs. My erection is obvious, but I no longer know if I should be ashamed or proud.

I get on my knees and say, "I still have a few things to say."

"Yes?" When the lights are low, so are our voices.

"I like this bra." I reach around and unhook the clasp, "And I like taking it off of you." As I slide the straps over her arms, I drag my fingernail over her skin and feel the goose bumps awaken. With all my might, I restrain my touch, still desperately trying to implement my research… to let this build. I pull the bra away from her and place it on the floor. Her palms cover her breasts, but I'm not sure why. _Is she trying to let things build too? _

Pressing my hands down on either side of her, I rub my nose along her jaw and whisper in her ear, "Isabella, I'm going to make you come with my mouth."

"Ah," a small, vocalized breath floats out of her.

With hardly any pressure at all, I press her shoulders and she falls back onto the mattress. Her feet search for purchase and she pushes herself up the bed. As I crawl up to her, Bella pulls her knees up and together, her feet flat on the mattress. I kiss each scraped knee and look down at her. Her arousal is laced with trepidation. Her eyes stay fixed on mine, as she pulls a corner of the comforter over her torso.

"Cold?"

"A little."

"Do you want me to turn up…"

"No."

"Shall we get rid of these?" I hook my fingers into the sides of her lace panties, and drag them slowly over her pressed-together legs. As I free them from her feet, I shudder at the wet feel of them, the scent. I'm not sure if the slow build is working for her, but it is killing me. She returns her feet flat on the mattress.

"I like these, too," I say as I throw them over my shoulder. Her face lightens again.

"I bought them special."

"You did?" _For me? For Us?_

"Mmm-hmmm." When did she do this? As crazy as her day has been, she took a detour-shopping trip? "They're lace, not cotton."

"I like cotton panties, too."

"Good, so do I."

I kneel above her on the bed and sway her closed knees side to side, batting them between my palms. I stare down at her and watch a kaleidoscope of emotions wash over her face—aroused, amused, and anxious.

"Well, Isabella…? Are you going to part these pretty knees for me?"

"No," she whispers.

"No?" I'm incredulous.

"You don't… you don't have to, Edward." _Have to?_

"Oh, I want to… I really want to." Her legs no longer sway with ease, she tenses.

Bella stares at the ceiling. "I know it doesn't taste… or smell…"

"Whoa, wait a second. Bella, you know I've tasted you. I thought you liked it when I…"

"I did. It was… sexy… and a really generous gesture," _Gesture?_ "but this is different. And I know that… guys, most guys, don't like it. I'm too sore for other things… maybe I could take a shower…"

She keeps talking, but I don't catch everything she says, I'm too distracted by our intruder. Mike is invading her mind, our bed.

"I'm coming to talk to you," I push her knees up to her stomach, hoping she will open them, but they're locked shut. "Your choice, open up so I can come up there and talk to you, or you have to give me an airplane ride on your knees." She smiles and for the first time I realize that it is not only Bella who has the ability to pull us into the light, I can guide the way, too.

Bella puts her hand over her eyes and opens her legs. When my face reaches hers, she wraps her legs around me. Propping myself up on my elbows, I press her into the mattress with my body, moving my pelvis so that my erection is nestled perfectly in her soft, warm flesh—liquid Bella seeping through the cotton of my underwear.

"Hi," I say and grind myself into her once. She moans.

"Did you like that?" I pull her hand away from her eyes.

"Mmm-hmm. Maybe we should just do that."

"We could, if you want to deny me my fantasy."

"Fantasy?"

"From our first night together, I've been thinking about this."

"Almost a whole week?" she teases.

"It's been a really long week."

"It sure has." She gently fingers the hair on the side of my head and my sideburns, but avoids my eyes.

"Bella, what you are creating between your legs is the food of the Gods."

"Stop it." She laughs and shifts her eyes back to me.

"You could cure cancer with what's going on down there."

"Edward," she tries to sound horrified, but she's not.

"You could end world hunger."

"Okay, that's a little…"

"Gross, right?"

"A little."

I reach my hand between us and run two fingers over her wet skin, making her gasp.

I bring my fingers back up to us—glistening and smelling of her. Her hand smacks across her eyes again, and she says in an apologetic, almost whining tone, "You make me so wet." For a moment, I think about mimicking her, teasing her, but decide against it.

"Yes. I do."

I wait for her to open her fingers and peek up at me. When she does, I hold her gaze and take my time sucking my middle finger into my mouth. The reality of her taste is better than the memory.

"God, that's amazing. Have you ever tasted yourself, Bella?"

I wait for her protest, her giggles, and her teasing, but instead, her hand falls away, her chest heaves, and she breathes, "Yes." Eyes close as if she has confessed the greatest of sins.

"Then you know. You know how good you taste."

Eyes of longing replace eyes of guilt. She wets parted lips and opens her mouth for me, I brush my Bella covered fingertip along her bottom lip, and she sucks my finger into her mouth. Bella's tongue swirling around my finger, the salty-sweet taste of her, the scent… she moans—it's too much. Pulling my finger away, I cover her mouth with mine and I rock into her, feeling the cotton between us soak. The only thing better than the singular taste of Bella is the mixed flavors of her mouth and her come.

I have to stop before I lose myself in this moment. I pull away. "Now the next time that voice in your head says you're not good enough, or smell sweet enough… or you're not tasty enough, see it for what it is. It's not real, Bella. Tell it to go away. It has no place here."

Her eyes burn into mine as she considers my words. Her brows pull together and she whispers, "Okay. I'll try… if you try."

_If _I_ try?_ _I don't understand. I do think she's good enough and…_

"You have that voice, too—that voice that says you're not good enough." She runs her fingertip down my cheek; her touch is as soft as her voice. "Sometimes it's so loud I can hear it out here, Edward."

_Oh._ I shift my eyes to the pillow next to her and give a small nod. Regardless of my effort to be strong for her, she sees my weakness. _But I want to be your knight._ I feel so exposed… emasculated. I begin to soften. _Fuck._

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry, Edward." Bella takes my face in her hands and kisses me with a hunger I haven't tasted before. She sucks me into her… my mouth, my tongue. Her hips push up into me and drag back away… and again. Using her body to stroke me, she brings me back to her. With the movement of her lips and hips, the memory our conversation fades, and my cock swells again… it is an extension of me and my desperate need to please her. Grinding my hips against hers, I watch as her breath becomes more erratic, and feel her fingers digging into my shoulder.

"_Ohh._ Oh, God Edward, you make me feel so good. I can't wait… I'm gonna come… make me come."

I hook my arm around her leg and gain leverage on my other arm, getting as close as I can get to her without being inside. I thrust everything that's hard into everything that's soft.

"Tell me… tell me I make you feel good, Bella."

"You do... Oh, God… you do… _Ahhhh_."

I begin to pump my hips—feeling free to move with force and speed, knowing I'm not hurting her.

She grunts with each thrust—_my God, she's closer than I am… I can wait. Calvin Klein boxer briefs make me a better lover. _Biting her lip, squeezing her eyes shut, Bella's body stiffens in my arms. _Holy shit, I've only begged her to come before, but now my body and words can command her. _

"Yes, Bella. Come for me."

She comes undone. Not a sound from her open mouth… her body seizes once—I hold her tightly to me. And she convulses again, and again, and again… her nails in my shoulders hurt so fucking good. Her body gives into one long tremor. I roll us onto our sides and pull the comforter around her. Slowly gliding my hand up and down the thigh I'm still holding, I wait until she comes back to me.

"You okay?"

"Very," she looks up at me and nuzzles her head back onto my chest before looking back up, "did you…?"

I shake my head. "Not yet."

Bella reaches for me, but I jerk my hips away. "No, not yet. I have my fantasy to fulfill first, Virginia."

Bella gasps and I roll her onto her back and begin to trail kisses down her neck.

I reach the swell of her breasts when I hear her husky voice, "Virginia? Like, 'Yes Virginia there is a Santa Claus?"

I move my mouth against her skin, "No like, _Come out Virginia don't let me wait, you Catholic girls start much too late._"

"_You sing?"_ She's shocked. "And you sing well." More shocked.

"Only for you, Bella, my songs are only for you."

"Billy Joel… the Catholic girl's anthem… _mmm_."

I reach her breasts, and Bella's words give way to soft moans. I circle my tongue around the pink flesh of the nipple I neglected last night in the woods, and begin my silent discussion. '_Hello Bella's breasts, I've been looking forward to this chat._ _I know I haven't been very good to you so far… but it's not because I haven't wanted to. You see, I figure lovemaking comes down to its own trinity—motivation, knowledge, and skill.' _I finish sucking on her nipple, and marvel at the hardness. Gently blowing on the circle of my salvia, Bella shudders, and her nipple becomes impossibly more erect. I run my thumb over it, watching it move, as I press my lips into Bella's breastbone. I move my mouth onto her other nipple. Too eager to tease with my tongue, I suck her nipple and as much as her small breasts I can fit into my mouth. _My God, her flesh is so smooth, so soft…_

'_Where was I?_ _Oh, yes, the trinity… as you can guess, my motivation level is quite high. I don't know if I've ever wanted anything more. And my knowledge level… well, you saw the bookcase. But in the skill department… I have a long way to go. So, giving you proper attention while I'm working with Bella's below the belt equipment and trying not to come in my pants has been a struggle. My biggest weakness is multi-tasking. Fortunately, I'm a quick learner.'_

I give her nipple one last flick of my tongue and pull my head back up to gaze at them.

"Beautiful."

They look happy. I look up at Bella's face; she's biting her lip and pulling her hair with one hand while pulling my hair with the other. She's happy too.

'_This has been a good talk. I think we're going to make great friends._'

Inching my way down Bella's body, I leave open mouth kisses over her hills—her ribcage and her hipbones, and through the valley that is her belly. When I reach the Promise Land, I make myself comfortable lying between her legs and propping myself up on my elbows—I don't want to rush this.

I rub my nose over her wet hair and inhale so deeply, I can taste her in the back of my throat. Bella squirms and her knees close in around my head, but I hold her hips still with my hands and push open her legs with forearms. I need to see her—all of her.

Bella whimpers and I look up to see the quick rise and fall of her of her stomach. She's panting. _Oh shit, this isn't excitement—she's panicking_. _This is NOT in the plan. _

"Breathe, Bella."

Still gasping short puffs of air, she tries to pull the comforter further around her.

"_Bella,"_ I command more forcefully and her fear-filled eyes snap to mine, "breathe." She quickly nods and tries to slow her breathing through a small opening in her pressed lips.

"There you go, pretty girl." She smiles and I see her belly expand and fall more slowly.

"You okay?" I can't help but to grin back at her. It's her smile, her willingness, and the absurdity of our collective inexperience that makes it impossible to hide the lightness I feel in my chest.

"Yes."

"We're having fun… that's all… right, Bella?"

"Right."

"This will make you feel good." _At least, that's what I've read. _

"Yes." _I love her breathy voice._

"And if it doesn't, you let me know, okay?"

"Mmm."

"Trust me?"

"Mmm… yes." Her breath quickens again, but this time, it isn't fear.

I planned to let this build, but I need one taste. I hold her gaze and cup her little ass with my hands, lifting her hips slightly. I dip my head between her legs and listen to her cries as I take one long, slow lick from her perineum, into her opening and over her clitoris. I curl my tongue at the end and gather enough of her salty honey to feel it pour down my throat as I swallow.

"Oh God, Edward."

"Sweet Jesus_, _Bella, I could live off of you."

"_Please… more."_

"Sorry, Bella… this thigh right here is demanding some attention; everything else will have to wait."

"_Nooo,"_ she laughs and tries to wriggle, but I hold her firmly in place.

I slide my mouth over her thigh. The feeling of slick come over perfect, smooth skin—man could never make this, this is from God. As I continue making obscene sucking noises that make me throb, I can't help but to stare at the awe-inspiring center of Bella an inch from me. Layers and layers of glistening pink flesh unfolding and twitching before my eyes—_who knew women twitched? _It's mesmerizing. _I want a Georgia O'Keefe painting, a Mapplethorpe photograph… I want to write my own Vagina Monologue. _The word 'pussy' is an affront to what I see before me… she is a Calla Lily.

I blow. She moans louder. _This shit really works._ And I move onto the other thigh giving it equal time, sucking and biting, making sure it tastes as good as the first—it does. Bella's hands leave my hair and I catch her fingers sneaking down to her triangle of hair.

_Holy shit. She's going to touch herself. Watch her fingers? Use my mouth? Fingers… mouth… fingers… mouth…? Fingers, mouth, fingers, mouth, fingers… MOUTH._

I grab her wrists and pull them down, now effectively using her own arms to hold her still and open for me. She mewls. "God, Edward…_ please_…"

"Mouth," is all I say as I finally work my way over to her center. I use my tongue and nose to kiss and suck and rub everything but the places she needs me most… above her… below… around. Her sweat only intensifies her salty taste and scent. To relieve my own pressure building up, I begin a slow steady rhythm of thrusting into the mattress.

"No… _no fair_," she moans.

I make love to Bella with my mouth, as I fuck the bed with my cock.

And that's when I see it; a small muscle, high on the inside of her right thigh begins to vibrate. The tremor spreads like wildfire throughout her body… her pelvis, her stomach, her hands and feet… everything quivers. I look up to see tears rolling from Bella's eyes to ears. _Uh-oh, too far._

"_P-Please_."

Quickly, I let go of her hands, turn my head, and suck the most sensitive sliver of Bella—her stamen—between my lips. She screams and bucks her pelvis off the bed… I move up onto my knees and hold her hips in the air, never losing contact. I force my tongue into her, fiercely circling, probing, and sucking. I feel the flesh of her small ass under my fingers, every spasm on my tongue, and her liquid trickling down my chin and neck.

Fisting sheets… crying out… coming in my mouth… she is exquisite… and she is mine.

There is a final shudder, and she presses her hips back down.

I crawl up next to her and Bella grabs my face, kissing and sucking and licking me—all the time murmuring, 'Thank you,' against my skin.

Pulling away for a moment, she looks at me the way I always want her to look at me and says, "Mr. Masen, you are a mess."

"I know." I kiss her again and begin to hump her leg like the seventeen-year old I am.

"Off," she says as she pulls at my briefs. I oblige. Within a second, I'm kicking them away from my feet and we're lying side-by-side.

Bella's hands are on my neck and we're looking down as I stroke myself. I don't know if this is hot or embarrassing.

"Let me," she says, grabbing hold of my shaft. I thrust into her hand as I've done before, but she stops me. "No. Let me do it… show me what you like." I grab hold of her hip and try to keep still as she strokes her fingertips over my skin. _Oh, fuck… more… harder. _I groan, and it sounds more frustrated than I'd like. "Like this?" _No._

"Yes… _Ungh_… anything you do is good. It's good."

"_Show me_," she insists. And my hand clasps over hers so fast it surprises both of us. Our grip is tight. We both watch as we pull the skin over my hard, hot muscle.

"_Oh, God."_

"It's not too tight?"

"_Oh, God no… uhh_."

"Let go… let me." I grab her hip as she continues to stroke me the way I want. Though I showed her how to touch me, I'm relieved to find it doesn't feel like my hand… it unique, it's her… it's better than 'private time.'

"_Ungh."_

My eyes shift between her hand stroking me, and her face-her little determined face with her pink tongue between her lips. I squeeze her hip and she starts to pump faster. Everything begins to tingle… _fuck, I'm going to come soon._

She glides her thumb over my head, "_Oh… Fuck_."

"You like that?"

"Yesss… _Oh, God."_

I throw my leg over her body and manage to say, "_No… wait." _She lets go and I'm all arms and legs everywhere as I reach for the nightstand. My hand is spastically feeling around, knocking off my alarm clock, smashing into the lamp… trying to find the drawer handle.

"Edward? What are you…"

"_Handkerchief."_

She grabs hold of my cock again and strokes me. I'm dizzy, discombobulated, I grab onto the headboard for dear life and look down at her gazing up at me. I'm straddling Bella, centered over her stomach.

Bella jerks me right under my head. "Bella… no," I growl. "Oh, God… _I'm gonna come_." Every muscle in my stomach clamps down as I desperately hold onto my climax.

"I know… let it go." I look down and for a split second I envision coming on her breasts….

And then I do.

Bella tips her head back and I call out her name as the first long stream of me reaches from her neck to her stomach. _I can't look away._ She continues to stroke me as I come on her breasts... her neck… her belly. Delirious, I watch as Bella gently slides my cock, and the last drops of me, between her breasts. It is a glorious, shameful sight.

My body quakes as I let out the last wordless sound. Falling onto my back next to her I finally breathe, "Fuck_." I have got to stop coming on you like that. _

Her body curls up next to me and I hear her giggle. I don't know if it is because I spoke that aloud or if it is because I have my hand over my eyes. I look at her through my fingers and she is wearing a huge grin. I put my other arm around her and she nuzzles up next to me. When she does, I feel her breasts and my stickiness on my ribs.

I go to sit up, "Let me get…" but she easily pushes me back down. I'm so tired.

"I'll get cleaned up in a minute, let's just rest." I feel her pull the sheet up around us.

"I can't believe you just let me do that."

Bella pulls my hand away and shrugs, looking up at me, "I was all over you. Now you're all over me… it's okay."

I shake my head in disbelief. I guess this is balance.

"It _is _okay… isn't it, Edward?" Her brow wrinkles in worry—humiliation? _Oh, no._

"Yes… of course it's okay. It's amazing. I mean… I'm in awe of you, Bella. In. Awe."

"Of me?"

"Of you." She snuggles back into me.

"Mmmm. I'm going to work my way up to giving you proper oral… swallowing and everything." _I'm so tired, even talk of blowjobs can't keep me awake. _I feel something on my tongue. I pull out and look at it on my finger—a pubic hair. I almost want to save it, but there are more where this came from.

"I'm sorry. I guess I should wax."

"Nope. Don't do anything for me. Don't change a single hair on your head… or anywhere. You are perfect just the way you are." _I love you. And if I thought you'd trust a post-coital admission of love, I'd tell you right now._

"Perfect?"

"Perfect." _Don't fall asleep... Must clean up… Must tuck her in… don't… fall… _

"Good night, Edward."

… _asleep._

~#~

I turn over. My arm reaches out and slides down the sheet. _Big bed_. I move my other arm, reaching for her… mmm. _Bella? _I jerk awake… where is she? _God help me, where's Bella?_

"BELLA?_" _

"It's okay, it's okay… I'm down here." She calls to me from downstairs. I look over our half wall into the living room below to see her lying on the couch looking up at me. "Hi."

"Hi." I pull on pajama pants and glance at the clock—it's after 4:00. Quickly making my way downstairs, I run my fingers over my ribs and notice that I'm clean. Bella must have washed me in my sleep.

I approach from behind the couch. She seems peaceful, but my mind is racing with possible explanations. _Guide me, Lord._

"I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

"No. I'm actually sorry you didn't wake me."

She's reading a book and wearing my black shirt. I should have given her something softer to sleep in but, my God, I love her in that black shirt. _Focus, Edward._

Bella smiles up at me and holds the book to her chest, but says nothing. _Something is definitely wrong. _The quiet is so heavy, like wet cement.

I brush her hair from her face. "Couldn't sleep?" She's ghost-white and her bruise is obvious in this light.

"I should fall back to sleep pretty soon."

_Fall back to sleep. _

"What are you reading there?" She hugs the book several moments longer before sheepishly showing me the spine, Sigmund Freud's, _Interpretation of Dreams._ I swallow the rising lump in my throat. '_Out, out bad dreams._' _I fell asleep before blowing in her ear._

"I stole it from your shelf. I hope you don't mind."

"No… of course not," I try, but my smile is weak, "what's mine is yours."

"Thanks." A tentative smile crosses her face.

_What to do? What to do? _My instincts with Bella are often worthless, but every cell in my body says I shouldn't reveal how worried I am. I shouldn't drop to my knees and beg her to tell me her dream.

"Can I come in and lie down with you?"

Bella says nothing, but gives room for me to slip in behind her. I pull her tightly to my chest and kiss the top of her head. "So, what do you think of Freud? Is he helping you get sleepy?"

"A little. The book is interesting, though." She's reticent.

"Yes, it is. Did you get to the section…" My voice tails off. _I don't want to talk about Freud; I want to talk about you._ "You had a dream."

"Yes," she whispers.

"Do you want to tell me about it?"

Shaking her head and shrugging, she stays quiet. I rub her upper arm and wait. And wait.

"Was it the limo dream?"

She looks up at me, "You know about the limo dream?" I nod, guilty.

"Gah… Dad."

"He's just concerned about you." I keep stroking her arm.

"I know. Don't worry, Edward, you weren't in the dream."

_Oh_. Until this moment, I didn't know I was in her dreams—her nightmares.

_Who was in the dream, Bella? Was he? Don't ask. Don't start there. She's talking; this is a good start._

"Have you had this dream before?"

"I don't remember… but it's so familiar, I must have had it before." Noticing that her limbs are relaxed and she stares straight ahead, I continue.

"What happens, Bella? What happens in the dream?"

"I… I'm walking… I'm walking all through Forks… my house, school, the woods. And I'm carrying, no dragging something… dragging it everywhere. I'm dragging it and it's so heavy and I'm so tired, I can barely walk. I'm… I'm so tired, Edward."

"I know. I know, Bella… Do you know what you're dragging?"

"Yes." I can barely hear her.

"Do you want to tell me?" I attempt to match her quiet, her softness.

"I… I want to go upstairs now. Can we go upstairs, Edward?" I search her large, rueful eyes staring up at me. Jasper's advice comes to my mind, _don't watch the ball, Edward; watch Bella._

"Absolutely." I press my lips to her temple, and as we stand, I can't help but to notice her subtle sway, her pallid complexion. I bend down and sweep her legs, cradling her into my arms, a motion that has become second nature.

For a moment, her sad expression abates. "You know I can walk, Edward."

"Yes Bella, I know. You know I love carrying you though, don't you?"

"Yes Edward, I know."

Before we snuggle into bed, Bella makes a 'pit stop' in the bathroom. I wait as I hear the _clang,_ _clang_ of her small fist on the cast iron tub. We ended the tour before we got to the bathroom and I have some explaining to do.

"Um… Edward?" She comes out of the bathroom with a smile pressed between her teeth.

"I know. I know… my bathroom is really weird, isn't it?" I get out of bed and stand at the doorway with her, looking in.

"No, I wouldn't say 'weird'… it's interesting… beautiful… like a little time warp. I was in here last night, but I guess with the lights off, I didn't notice how… unique it is."

_Okay, here it goes._ "Yeah, well. You see… I was one of those kids that loved bath time. Like, really loved bath time. And well, I grew out of it, of course. But when I got older and started playing baseball I really wanted to take baths again… the sore muscles and all."

She hasn't started laughing yet, so I continue.

"But, by that time, we were living in Seattle and I was too tall to fit in our tub. Anyway, when I moved in here, I talked to the contractor about upgrading the tub… he threw out lots of ideas, including a claw foot tub. He might have been joking, but I got really excited and took him up on the offer. We had a claw foot growing up."

Bella walks to the tub and carefully strokes her hand over the porcelain; she bends down and appraises the brass claws. Feeling a little insecure, I sit on the edge of the tub and finish the story as quickly as I can. "So, the contractor got the biggest one he could find… and, well… it looked a little strange with all the modern fixtures. So, Esme helped with the rest of the bathroom… sort of retro." Bella face softens and she comes to stand between my legs and I stroke the smooth skin of her thighs. "It's kind of strange, isn't it?"

"No. No, not strange at all. It's beautiful, and sentimental, and a wee bit quirky… it's you, it's totally you, Edward. I love your bathroom."

"Thank you." I don't know if anything will ever feel as good as Bella's acceptance.

"Was that, um, Chicago… where you had the tub?"

"Yes, Chicago." Bella nods and gives me a sad smile before pulling away, but I hold her close to me. "So… that's before we moved here for my parents' company."

"Yes?" Her face is so hopeful, yet wary. She doesn't want to probe. And why should she? I've already sanctioned her curiosity. And so I try, I really try.

"Um… but my dad started as a lawyer in Chicago."

"A lawyer?"

"Ah, yeah… a corporate lawyer. In the 80's he did all that horrible acquisition and merger work… destroying small companies."

"Like the movie, _Wall Street_?"

"Exactly like _Wall Street._ But that didn't sit well with him… "

As I continue to talk, I take her hand and lead her into bed with me. I tell Bella the story of my parents, as much of the story that I can. She rests her head on my chest and intently listens as I explain how my parents started a small firm because they wanted to invest in, instead of destroying, small companies.

Bella asks about my mom, and I try to paint pictures of my mother for her. I recount the day my grandparents moved in with us, and how my mom took care of everyone as she helped with the company from home. My fingers massage Bella's scalp as I describe watching my mother looking out the window, awaiting my father's return from trips to Seattle, and how they simply could not stand to be separated.

"So, with technology boom," I explain, "he was making so many trips to Seattle, my parents thought it was time to pick up and move here."

"How old were you?"

"Fourteen."

"Did your grandparents move to Seattle with you?"

"No. They passed away about a year before the move."

"I'm sorry. So, you have been to some funerals of people you loved."

"Yes."

"And no brothers or sisters. How about cousins? Other grandparents?"

"No, no one. It's a very small family."

"Mmm. Like me and Charlie."

"Like you and Charlie."

"It's late, or really early, you should get some sleep, Bella."

"Yeah, I know." She agrees, but sounds resistant.

"Not sleepy?" Bella looks up at me with worried eyes, before shrugging and resting her head back on my chest. '_To sleep perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub.'_

I scoot down further into the bed, and Bella turns so her back is to my chest—my favorite way to hold her.

"You can tell me."

"It's… it's a pretty creepy dream, you won't like it."

"What are you dragging, Bella?"

"It's not a what, it's a who." I try not to flinch, just continue rubbing her arm. "I'm dragging _him_… I'm dragging Mike." My mind scatters as I fight the urge to feel jealous, actually jealous that he still spends time with her, while at the same time, I try to envision the image she describes… she's _dragging_ him?

Bella takes a deep breath and then speaks matter-of-factly, "He's in a body bag. I'm dragging Mike in a body bag." Bella's knees pull up to her chest, and I follow with my own, tucking them behind hers.

"Did you… have you tried to put down…"

Her voice is still emotionless, "Yes. I try to put it… him down," but then she takes a shuddering breath, "and when I do…" Bella stops, and I look down to see her bottom lip quivering. I hold her more tightly to me and splay my hand on top of her head, wanting to hold her together. She starts again, "and when I do, he grabs me and pulls me down to the ground… and then he tries to drag me to hell."

I don't know what to say, so I stay quiet.

Her first tears fall to her cheeks and I let go of her long enough to open the nightstand drawer and take out a handkerchief.

Before I have a chance to wipe her tears, Bella takes the handkerchief from me, wipes her face, and attempts nonchalance, "I guess I don't need Freud to tell me what it means." She forces a single laugh and says, "It's a pretty crappy dream."

I shift so I can speak directly in her ear, "Isabella Swan, you are not going to hell. You know that, right?"

She nods unconvincingly, "Yeah, I guess."

"No… No, not 'you guess." I much as I hate to break our physical contact, I have to look her in the eyes. I pull away and turn her towards me, holding her face in my hands, "You must know how good you are."

Her face creases, and she pleads, "Tell me what Carlisle said to you."

"Carlisle?"

"After the phone call… at the hotel. Did he forgive you?"

"No… I mean… forgiveness wasn't even an issue. I'm sorry I didn't think to tell you sooner. He… he blessed us, our relationship."

"He did?" I can see the relief, the hope, wash away her furrowed brow.

"Yes. We prayed together in the hospital chapel."

"You prayed for us?"

"Yes we did. And I pray everyday for you, Bella… for us."

"Me too." Bella tears have ceased and I find the courage approach a topic that would send most people away screaming.

"Um… I was thinking about Sunday… um… I was wondering if you want to go to church. We could go separately and meet up after, or I could go to church with you, you with me… or there's a Unitarian Church downtown…"

"Unitarian? Worship with those heathens? Never." Bella breaks into a soft laugh, and I can see her humor is back. "The Unitarian Church sounds good. Does Carlisle have a church?"

"He takes turns leading service at the seminary. But this week he's filling in at University Temple."

"Oh, that's such a pretty church. Can we go there?"

"Sure." Bella yawns and rests her head back on my chest. I can see the long night is finally taking its toll. "Will you wake me if you wake up again?"

"Mmm… yes."

"Good, or I'm going to have to put a bell around you so I wake when you wake." I feel her smile on my chest. I can tell she's almost asleep, so I blow in her ear. "Out, out, bad dreams."

"Thank you… Edward, this handkerchief is really soft."

"I know. Gay shluffen, Bella."

.

.

.

.

* * *

**A/N: **

**Oh, those two.  
**

Life in the FF world would not be complete without a banner and a Twilighted thread. Thanks to two special ladies, SMGR now has both.

Thank you so much to **Hoot**, who made me a beautiful banner and to **Elliedgasmswoon,** who started a Twilighted thread. You can find both links on my profile.

I'll be stopping by Twilighted to chat. I hope to see you there.

So, reviews… do you think Saintward will be a minister or therapist?


	11. Blue

A/N

Huge thanks to Honorella for her lovely review of this story on The Fictionators—link on my profile.

Thank you for Iris~Elli for the Twilighted Thread. Thanks to robsjenn, my researcher.

Big Thanks to The Twi Posse, Hoot, and so many others for the PR Twitter Storm

And, of course, Orangeappeal for Pre-Reading and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady

Sooo… where were we…

* * *

From Chapter Nine (the night before)

"_How is Alice? How is she holding up?"_

"_Alice is… Alice is blue." _

"_Blue?" _

"_Yes, and that is saying a lot for Alice. That means she's really in bad shape."_

and…

"_I needed time alone with Alice today… so I appreciate… I understand why you didn't come to the hospital. But, I think she misses you. Please don't stay away from Alice because of me."_

"_I won't." Bella either doesn't know of Alice's unreturned texts or she's letting me off easy. "Should we go in the morning?" _

_Bella nestles her head back on my shoulder, "Yes."_

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Blue

'_I came for you, for you, I came for you, but you did not need my urgency  
I came for you, for you, I came for you, but your life was one long emergency'_

Bruce Springsteen's driving rhythm fills the car as we pull out of Bella's garage and onto Broadway towards the hospital.

"I completely understand; you need to get some work done tonight. I've been very selfish with your time and, really, I can stay alone tonight. You don't have to babysit me."

I'm not sure why, but Bella is having a particularly sensitive morning. I mentioned writing a paper this weekend and somehow she took it personally. I'm not used to this.

"Bella, I don't babysit you." I try to keep my voice calm. "We spend time together and I enjoy every second of it." _Even when you're like this and it freaks me out._ "I don't have to work tonight… maybe tomorrow, after church. I assume we're going to go back to the hospital. I can get work done there." _And don't even think of spending a night alone._

"Really… tonight, tomorrow, whenever you want. I mean, they should be giving you course credit for taking care of me. Isn't there some sort of internship for watching over basket cases?"

"Bella, you are not a basket case." I reach over and feel the rigidity of her neck. With only a gentle rub, Bella's shoulders spring up and she hisses. "Did that hurt?" _I barely touched her. _

"Yeah."

"You're so tense. Come on… tell me what's going on."

"I don't know." Bella holds Pedi more tightly and shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Edward. I guess… I don't know. I'm feeling so useless." She chuckles, "I wish I had a paper to write. Can I write your paper for you?"

"Somehow cheating and seminary don't go hand in hand."

"I'm sure I will feel better on Monday, more like myself."

"Why Monday?"

"When I go back to work."

"Excuse me?"

"When I go back to work." _Are you fucking kidding me?_

"I heard what you said; I just can't believe what you said."

"What do you mean?"

'_And your strength is devastating in the face of all these odds  
Remember how I kept you waiting when it was my turn to be the god'_

"You can't be serious. You're going back to Newt… Olympic Outfitters? I thought you quit."

"You can say Newton's, Edward. I'm going to say it or hear it a hundred times a day. And, no, I never quit. I guess, officially, I've been on vacation for my hon-" She cuts her sentence short._ Say it Bella: for your honeymoon… with Mike NEWTON. Relax, Edward, count to ten. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10. Better… a little. _

"But, Bella, why would you go back? You don't have to. You have all those wedding presents … that's a lot of money. And I'm sure… well… I think Esme is going to call soon about the condo sale." _About 12:30 this afternoon._

"It's not about the money, Edward. I need to work. I've always worked. What would I do all day, sit around and feel sorry for myself?"

"And Mrs. Newton?"

"What about her?" Bella's tone is gentle; she's trying to mollify me. Not an easy task right now. "She only calls the office on occasion—she's at the Forks store most days."

"What about graduate school?"

"Yes, that would be great in the fall. But, right now, I have a steady job with benefits… it's more than a lot of people have. I should be grateful I still have a job."

I let out a frustrated sigh, it's clear I am getting nowhere in this conversation.

_'Cause I've broken all your windows and I've rammed through all your doors  
And who am I to ask you to lick my sores'_

"Edward, you know what I think? I think you have the most depressing music collection known to man."

"What? Just listen to this song. How can you not love the E Street Band?"

"Oh, the E Street Band is wonderful… Bruce Springsteen, a genius. These lyrics about a suicidal break up, I can do without."

"Good point."

"_Ah-ha_. I have it. You, my good man, will work on your paper, while I add something a little more uplifting to your iPod."

"You expect me to voluntarily hand over my iPod? Who knows what I'll end up with?"

"Lest ye forget so quickly? I am my father's daughter. I know music."

"Bella, you know I like you and all, but one of those songs by… who's the little kid with the weird hair?"

"Justin Bieber?"

"Yes, one of those songs by Justin Bieber, and you're out."

"You would kick me to the curb over one bad song?"

"Justin Bieber?"

"Got it."

I glance over to Bella as she scratches Pedi behind his ear. She declared her desire to pass him along to Alice while I unpacked my drawer for Bella's place and she packed one for mine. More specifically, I packed: 1) a pair of jeans—button-fly; 2) those boxer briefs Bella likes; 3) pj's; 4) two t-shirts; 5) one pair of grey dress pants; 6) an oxford—the dress pants and oxford went in the closet instead of the drawer; 7) a cable knit sweater just like Kisby's; 8) _FHM, _the Katy Perry issue—not that I really _need_ it, but I like it; and 9) a dozen Belgian handkerchiefs. I still need to buy more toiletries, but I packed a toothbrush. I have no idea what Bella packed, but I'm sure it's pretty.

A few minutes later, we pull into the hospital parking lot and I catch Bella looking mournfully into Pedi's sad, plastic eyes.

"Bella, are you sure you want to give Pedi to Alice."

"Um… I think Alice could use Pedi right now." _Oh, Bella, it's so obvious you can't give that bear away._

"Well… she might need _a _Pedi, but she doesn't need _that_ Pedi. There's a really good gift shop…"

"Okay." Her response is so quick I can't hide my smile. "Let's get Alice her own Pedi."

"Sounds good. Pedies for everyone."

Bella gives me her embarrassed smile. "Edward, how does it feel to date a person with the emotional maturity of a child?"

"I don't know Bella, you tell me." I lean over and give her a quick kiss. "You ready for this?"

"Not at all, let's go."

~0~

Bella's description of a 'mad house' could not be more accurate. As I sit in a chair in the far corner of this little room, I watch the action unfold. It doesn't matter which new topic of conversation is introduced, it continues to go back to decisions about Alice's treatment. It is like watching an absurd Ionesco play, the same conversation over and over without any progress. How many times can the Brandons rehash the same argument?

The air is thick with tension. Not one of us is brave enough to interrupt the wind tunnel created by Mr. and Mrs. Brandon. They are a force of nature: two powerful business people adept at getting what they want. But here, in this hospital, they have no control. And their little girl is very, very hurt.

"Alice, if it's the wheelchair you're worried about, you know you can come home and live with us." Mrs. Brandon's haircut is more severe than Alice's and her face moves much less, but otherwise they could be sisters. Mr. Brandon should be on the cover of some magazine for vacations or sailing. He has a full head of silver hair and bright blue eyes that have become dimmer each day he's been here.

"I know, Mom. Thank you." Alice's voice is as listless as her appearance. Her eyes are glazed over; her hair lies heavy and dull around her face. Three days ago, she looked like she was ready to jump out of bed, head home, and conquer the world. Today, she looks like the patient she is. More machines, more IVs, less Alice.

Bella keeps vigil, sitting next to Alice. Bella's eyes meet mine, and I can see the helplessness in her expression.

'_I'm feeling so useless.' _Her mood, her sensitivity, from this morning is no longer a mystery. She takes out her phone and whispers to Alice before indicating to me that she is taking a call in the hallway. It must be 12:30—that would be Esme.

Once she's out of the room, Alice becomes slightly more alert. "Mom, Dad, will you do me a favor? Can you take Bella to lunch? Some place nice and make sure she eats something."

"Of course, dear." Mr. Brandon speaks up. "Your mother and I didn't recognize her yesterday. Poor thing. Is she going to be alright?"

I shift in my chair, but don't say anything. I feel a little defensive from his remarks. _Don't worry about Bella—she's going to be fine. She's in good hands. _

"Bella will be alright, Dad." Alice glances my way; she knows what I'm thinking. But to the Brandons, to everyone, I'm still 'that nice seminary student,' nothing more. "In fact, she's doing a lot better. I think getting her out of the hospital will do her some good, though."

Bella enters the room and gives me a subtle thumbs-up. _Thank you, Esme._

"Mom, Dad could you please get me some more ice chips… and could you find some more chapstick… oh, and an extra blanket?"

Eager to do something productive for their daughter, Mr. and Mrs. Brandon leave the room with serious intent.

From Alice's bed, she cannot see the entryway. "Are they gone?" I nod. "Oh, thank God. Edward, shut the door. For fuck's sake, I wish they would leave already." We all indulge in a collective exhale.

"Oh, Alice… they're going to drive you insane." Bella stands over Alice and strokes her bangs away from her ashen face. They are quite a vision together, Bella holding onto Pedi, and Alice clutching her stuffed turtle. We agreed it was the softest, most huggable of the gift shop offerings.

"I hate to be like this, I know they mean well… but they're so intense. Thank God I didn't inherit that trait." _Edward, this is no time to be snarky._ "Bella, what was that phone call about? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah… um, everything's great. The condo sold."

"It did? Oh, honey, that's wonderful." Alice's performance is flawless—_thank you, Alice._

"And you, Edward," Bella walks to me, stands on her toes and gives me a sweet kiss on the side of my mouth, "I don't know how to thank you." What? _Oh, fuck._

"Thank me?" My voice cracks like I'm going through puberty which, given the last week, seems appropriate.

"Yes. If it wasn't for connecting me with Esme… well… I don't know what she did, but she sold it for a lot of money. Like _a lot_ of money."

Bella shakes her head, perplexed, but I don't want her to over think it.

"Really? That's great, Bella. Esme knows real estate; every property just needs the right buyer. She's the best at finding the right one." My performance isn't too bad, either.

"I know… but it doesn't make sense…"

"Bella, with the shit hand of cards you've been dealt, who cares why it sold for a lot. Stop worrying, enjoy it."

"You're right. I don't know what I'm thinking. I guess I'm still in shock."

"Listen, we only have a few minutes before my parents come back… Bella, honey, would you do me a favor? Will you go to lunch with my mom and dad? They could use some time away from the hospital. And, please, make sure they eat something."

"Of course, Alice"

"Thank you."

_I have so much to learn from Alice Brandon. _

As if on cue, the Brandons return with the goods from their scavenger hunt and Mr. Brandon announces, "Mrs. Brandon and I were thinking about getting a little lunch. Bella, Edward, will you join us?"

"We'd love to," Bella replies.

"I have an idea," Mrs. Brandon says, "why don't we give the hospital cafeteria a rest and head off campus for lunch?"

All three of them look so proud of themselves, each barely stopping short of winking at Alice.

Alice quickly glances my way; she knows I admire her work, and I know she wants me to stay. I wish I could read Bella's mind half as well.

"Thank you Mr. and Mrs. Brandon, but I think I'll stay here and keep Alice company."

I walk them out and shut the door, feeling positively buoyant from the performance I witnessed. "Damn, Alice you are good…" I stop in my tracks when I turn the corner to see her. Alice's eyes are closed and her expression is pained. I realized how much energy she exerted in arranging the lunch date.

"_Alice_?_"_ I am about to get a nurse when Alice holds up a finger, stopping me. I freeze, watching her take a few breaths. Eventually, she opens her eyes, blinks up at me, and gives me a sad smile.

"Don't look so scared, Edward, I'm okay."

It takes me a moment, but I eventually find the ability to nod. Alice is the strong one—the strongest of the three of us. Without her… _Lord, give me the strength to carry us all; let me fulfill your purpose for me here today_.

"I hope you're not waiting for an invitation." Alice shifts her eyes to Bella's seat. Unlike days ago, Alice barely moves a muscle—her shoulders, chest, even her head seem locked in place.

I move the chair right up to the bed so that Alice can see me more easily. It's like I'm going up to bat, but the aluminum feels heavy, foreign, in my hands. I know I'm here for a reason... maybe I'm in trouble. _Please don't let me miss the ball._ I follow Alice's eyes as they dart to the morphine pump on the tray next to her.

Carefully I pick it up, fearful of its power, and ask with my eyes if she wants me to hit the button.

"No. I want to stay lucid for this conversation." I lay it next to her, glad to have it out of my hands."I hope you're not disappointed about missing lunch with the Brandons. I'm sure it would have been entertaining."

"Not at all."

"Good. I've missed you, Edward."

The harsh, florescent light behind her casts deep shadows under her eyes. Seeing her like this only intensifies my shame. "Alice… I… the texts yesterday… I'm so, so sorry."

"Don't worry about it." Alice waves her hand, dismissively. "Bella told me about her… accusations. It sounds like quite the conversation you had." I nod again, not sure how much Alice knows about our night in the woods. "Didn't I tell you… photos would have made the funeral a lot more fun." Even with her thin, tired voice, Alice attempts to be her droll self. She succeeds in making me smile, but it's still heart breaking.

"I'm sort of glad you avoided me, Edward. It shows me how much you care about her feelings. But, let's not let it happen again, okay?"

"Promise."

"So, how's our girl Bella Swan doing?"

"Good. I think she's going to be okay."

"You're not just telling me that, are you? Watching her with that bear is pretty pitiful." I pretend to rub my jaw, but I'm really covering my smile at the bright green turtle securely nestled in the crook of Alice's arm.

"I know what you're thinking… but this is a turtle, it's completely different. Besides, I'm only holding it so Bella won't feel silly."

"Of course." I try for a serious face, but I can't do it. Fortunately, Alice breaks out in a soft laugh that devolves into a sad smile.

_My two girls with their sad smiles. _

I take her hand, thread her fingers in mine, and press my lips to her knuckles. I glance down at her bare fingernails and think back to a few days ago when I watched her expertly apply her own manicure.

"Oh, yeah… so much for my mani. Apparently, nurses like to look at my nail beds. Hard to do through a French manicure." I nod and focus on her face instead of allowing my eyes to float to the new machines surrounding her.

"So, how's our girl Alice Brandon doing?"

"Oh, you know me… they'll be writing about me in medical journals, woman wills pelvis to fuse together so she can wear a decent outfit." I don't know if Alice realizes I heard that line when she gave it to Bella… when she was saving Bella from worry. Alice's performance no longer carries its earlier vibrato. She can't hold up her act, or maybe she's willing to let it go? Maybe this is why I'm here. I pray for insight.

"Alice, what happened?"

Alice inhales and slowly breathes an anguished, "_I don't know."_ I keep her hand in both of mine—I would hold her if I could, but with her fractured body, this is my only way. "I was doing okay a few days ago, wasn't I? It wasn't my imagination."

"Yes. Yes you were, Alice."

"And then the pain came. Real pain… intense pain. And I'm a tough woman, Edward… I can take a lot, but this… this is something else." _Lord, take away her pain; give it to me._

"What do the doctors say?"

"My pelvis is still unstable. And this thing… _fuck_… this stupid, archaic thing is doing nothing. Look at it Edward… look at it."

At her insistence, I let my eyes drift to the metal brace—the scaffolding—surrounding her. We all pretend it isn't there, but it is impossible to ignore. A steel rod, inches above her skin, spans the length of Alice's narrow hips. Two thinner rods anchor each end and connect to bolts protruding from her hips. Alice no longer wears pants altered to allow for the bolts. Today, only a sheet gathered around her wounds protects her modesty; her legs are bare.

I drop my head to our hands. _Dear Lord, help this wounded child of yours. Grant her freedom from her suffering. Let her know your love—help me to show her your love._ I swallow and try to continue with a strong voice, looking only in her eyes.

"I understand you have some decisions to make."

"Yeah." Alice too, struggles to find a steady voice. "I can go home in this brace, or another like it, and be in a… wheelchair for several months."

"Okay, okay… that's one option."

"Or, I can have surgery and have permanent metal rods placed in my hips. I'll still go home in a wheelchair… but maybe I'll get out of it sooner."

"Okay, so what are our plusses and minuses?" _I can solve this; with some logic I can end her torment._

Alice starts and stops several times. Her eyes squeeze shut, fighting off imminent tears.

"Is it the wheelchair?"

"Yes," she whispers a guilty breath.

"And the brace. People seeing the brace?"

"Yes."

"And clothes… not being able to wear your clothes."

Alice looks up at the ceiling and her tears begin to flow. Her voice shakes, "You think I'm really vain, don't you?"

I hand her my handkerchief. "No, God no. I don't Alice." And I mean it. _Believe me Alice._ "I think you want to feel like yourself again. You don't want people to pitying you… you want them to see you and not your accident." _I understand, Alice… I swear to God, I understand. _

Dabbing the corners of her eyes, she looks to me and says, "Edward, I can't rely on people to drive me places… help bathe me… reach a fucking coffee cup. It's not me… it will kill me."

"And if it were Bella? If Bella needed your help… if any of your friends needed your help, you wouldn't…"

"Don't do that to me, Edward." _Fuck, am I making this worse?_ I kiss her hand and let it go. I stand and start to pace.

"Alice, tell me what you need. Do you want a driver? A nurse? A… fucking cabana boy? It's done. We'll move someone in to… to cook for you, to take care of you… anything you need. Say it and I'll hire someone this afternoon… I'll hire a fucking team of people." _Finally, my money makes sense… has a purpose._

"Oh, Edward… my dear, sweet friend. I have… my parents have… well, we've talked about hiring someone. It's not that… I don't know if I can be that dependent on anyone—even someone hired."

_This is so frustrating. We're close to solving this… we have to solve this. Come on Edward, think._ _Maybe we could… I don't know… ah, fuck, fuck, fuck. _I run my fingers through my hair and it fucking sucks. _I want my long hair back. _

"Okay… so let's put that option aside for a minute. Let's talk about surgery. You could be out of the chair sooner, right?"

"Yes." Her voice is still so small. _Problem solved, done._

"Well, then… let's have the surgery. What's wrong with the surgery?"

"I'm… the doctors say I'm not st- strong enough yet… and I'm s-s- scared." Before my eyes, Alice Brand loses the war against the onslaught of tears. _How could I be so blind?_ I sound exactly like her parents. I'm not here to solve her problems, answer her questions; I'm here to provide her comfort, give her love.

I go to her and hold her delicate face in my hands and kiss her head as she cries. "I'm sorry, Alice." I don't know how, but I need to hold her—she needs to be held.

"Alice, stop me if this hurts." As gingerly as I can, I slide my arm behind Alice's neck. "Is this okay?"

"Yes," she sniffles.

Slowly, I slide my arm down until it is between her shoulder blades and the bed. "Does this hurt?"

"No," she speaks between her soft cries.

I crouch down and reach my other arm across her chest until I can clasp my hands together and touch my chin to her head.

Alice moves her head in the crook of my neck and continues to cry.

"There you go, Alice."

Aching, choked sounds tumble out of her, "I really needed… a hug… I haven't had one… since I got here."

"I know… I know Alice. It's going to be okay, Alice. I promise. You're going to be okay. We love you Alice, we all love you so much."

"Thank you… I'm s- so- sorry… but I need this… I wish I didn't, but I d- do."

"Don't be sorry –you feel alone, don't you Alice? You feel alone even with all these people here."

My neck absorbs a fresh wave of hot tears and strangled sobs. My own memories of grief lance through me like cold steel; I feel my heart twist at her sadness.

"That's why I'm here. You're not alone anymore. I love you, Alice Brandon. I love you."

Alice continues to cry and clutches onto my arm. "I love you too, Edward… don't let go yet."

"I won't. I'm staying right here."

And I do. Bracing my body, I fight my urge to squeeze her more tightly, to pull her into me and have her feel all of my power, all of the support I am able to give.

I welcome the pain that accompanies holding her in this way, the slow burn in my thighs, and the creeping ache in my lower back. I will not move. I will stay here until my legs give out. For a long time, I hold her like this. I allow the flames to consume my body and remind me that no physical suffering can match the agony of loneliness.

Eventually, she says, "Let's not tell Bella about this… okay?"

"Deal," and I feel her sobs meld with laughter in my neck.

Alice pulls away from my embrace, and I can see her deep red, swollen eyes—the drenched handkerchief she uses to wipe her tears. _I should carry two handkerchiefs, at least._ "I have a secret to tell you."

This time, it is Alice who holds my hands to her. I sit down and listen with my heart.

"I don't know the last time I've gone to church on my own accord. When I go with Bella, it's only because I want to go to brunch afterward." I think about my Sunday brunches with Jasper; they will make quite a pair.

"Alice, I don't judge."

"That's not the secret part. The secret is… I've been praying a whole lot lately." Though Alice subtly cringes when she says this, it brings me a pure, clean joy.

"Yeah? Me too… and Bella. Maybe we should get a family plan and save on minutes."

A warm, relieved smile stretches across her face. We sit in silence for a few moments, then she kisses my hand, and sighs, looking longingly into my eyes. _Oh, I now know why I am here. _

"Alice, would you like to pray with me?" The words flow out of me with an assurance I've never known. For the first time, I feel no shame. My faith is a pool from where I drink—my source of strength and love. It is where I go when I too feel alone. If Alice wants to drink from this pool, I will gladly offer her the cup.

"Yes, please." Alice's whispered consent is her own prayer. "Will you do the talking?"

"Of course." We hold all four of our hands together, between us. "Let us pray. Heavenly Father, we gather together to give you praise and…" I stop because these words are not my own. They are borrowed from Carlisle and other spiritual leaders. These are the words we are taught to use when beginning and structuring a prayer... but they are not my words.

I start again, "Hi God, this is Edward and Alice, here. Um… we could really use your help…" I talk to God like he is my friend, because really, he is. I tell him that we are scared and have decisions to make. We ask for peace and guidance, to find serenity in these turbulent times.

Even Alice begins to talk, "And God, help me let my parents know that I really do appreciate all they are doing. And can you help them find peace, too?"

We pray… well… we talk to God for a long time. When I think we're done I say, "Lord hear our prayer."

And, like the good Catholic girl Alice is, she repeats, "Lord hear our prayer." Together we say, "Amen."

"Close your eyes, Alice. You need to get some rest." She complies and I feel a weight lifted from my shoulders as I detect a new calm on her face.

"Edward, tell me a story." _Does Bella tell you EVERYTHING? _

"Alright, Alice… um… I'm going to tell you a story about a man named Jasper Hale. You see… Jasper came to Seattle about eight years ago. As a Southern boy, he was out of his element when he first arrived. Fortunately for him, he was assigned a terrific college roommate. But we'll talk about the roommate another time."

Alice rests her eyes and feeds herself ice chips as I continue tell her all about Jasper. I even give her embarrassing college stories, which evoke a smile. Not until today, did I fully realize how good they would be for each other.

Although I want to persuade Alice to meet him now, while she's in the hospital, I refrain. She has enough on her plate already. Like Bella and my secrets, there is only so much one should be exposed to in times like these.

When we hear the lunch crowd at the door, Alice's eyes spring open and she asks in a hushed voice, "How do I look?"

"Like you're ready to conquer the world."

~oo0oo~

Bella and I wait until we are the last of the parishioners to exit the church before approaching Carlisle.

"Reverend Cullen, that was one of the most inspiring sermons I have ever heard."

"Well, thank you, Bella. But really, you have to start calling me Carlisle."

"Alright, thank you, Carlisle." As she grabs my hand, I can tell that Bella is still nervous around him.

Gently swinging our hands between us, I stand proudly next to her. Carlisle titled his sermon, 'The Blessings of New Relationships', and based it on Ephesians 4:32. I've often wondered if he writes his sermons knowing what I need to hear.

I look down at Bella as they speak, really, I can't take my eyes off of her. She wears a simple blue skirt and a lighter blue cardigan. Her hair is pulled back in a loose bun. Bella's beauty is so natural it stuns me. I can't stop thinking_, 'Preacher's wife… you would make a good preacher's wife._ _I should be a preacher, so you could be my wife.'_

"Carlisle, it's funny to sit in this church and think in just a couple of years that will be Edward up there. Well, maybe not up there… but in front of some congregation somewhere."

Carlisle's brows shoot up and he looks at me. I can't shrug; it's too obvious.

"Yes, Bella, it will be interesting to see where Edward ends up."

She looks at me and smiles with a bit of admiration. _Do you want to be a preacher's wife?_

"Yes, it will be interesting to see where I end up." _How does therapist's wife suit you?_

"So, will we be seeing you two for dinner?"

"It is Sunday, isn't it?"

"Yes, Son, it is."

.

.

* * *

A/N:

No, I didn't kill Alice. It is far to early in the story for me to do that ;)

So, hankies from Belgium? Kisby's sweater? These are references to "Good Enough" an outtake you can find under a separate story on my profile (chapter seven).

It you don't know Springsteen's "For You," check out a heart-breaking rendition on my profile.

We are discussing happy songs for E's iPod on Twilighted.

For the next five weeks, my life is crazy. I should still be able to update every two weeks.

Review? Yes, please. Edward will send you a handkerchief.


	12. The Way She Looks at Me

**A/N**

Thank you all for continuing to read, review, and spread the word about this little story. In May, real life goes back to normal and I will be able to respond to more of your reviews.

Huge thanks to The Twi Posse, especially, Micki_Martini for her lovely review of this story on h00rs Anonymous —link on my profile.

And, of course, robsjenn for her research, Orangeappeal for pre-reading and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady.

Please check out the ending author's note.

* * *

Chapter Twelve

The Way She Looks at Me

.

"Oh, my goodness, is this their house?"

"Yes. It's something isn't, it?"

Bella looks through the windshield as I pull into the driveway. As beautiful as their house is, Carlisle and Esme can afford much more.

"And they don't have kids?"

"No. They never had children."

"It looks like the perfect house to raise a family. Oh, that porch, and it's right on the water?"

"Yep."

"I would love to live in Madrona, in a house like this. Do your parents live here, too?"

Fear spears through me. _How fucking stupid can I be?_ I didn't think of telling Carlisle or Esme of the little… story. They wouldn't approve. Surely, Carlisle and Esme aren't going to talk about death over dinner, but Bella might ask questions. _No she won't, will she?_ _Hey Carlisle, are Edward's parents dead? Ahhh, fuck._ I'll be on my guard. _God, please, please, dear God… let us get through dinner. I need time._

"Edward?"

"I'm sorry. What was that?"

"Do your parents live in Madrona?

"Um… no."

"Is something wrong?"

"Yes. I'm fine." Bella looks at me strangely. "Oh. I mean… no. I'm good."

"Boy, and I thought I was nervous about dinner."

"You're nervous? No reason to be nervous." I grab her hand and give her a quick kiss.

.

"Esme, it is wonderful to meet you in person. I can't thank you enough for the condo sale."

As I knew she would, Esme holds Bella in a warm embrace. When she does, she winks at me standing behind Bella.

"Do you know anything about the buyer? Who was willing to pay that much money? I mean… is there something I don't know about the condo?" _Lots of questions and we just walked in. This is going to be a very long night. _

"It's a good investment property," Esme doesn't lie.

I feel a sharp slap on my back, a little hard for a regular greeting.

"Hi folks." Carlisle's voice is overly cheery.

"Hi Carlisle. It's great to see you."

"It's great to see you too, Bella." Carlisle leans down and gives Bella a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, both of you, for inviting me."

I quietly observe the whole thing. This is as close I will ever be to introducing Bella to my family.

"Bella, I hope you don't mind, but Carlisle and I made a simple dinner for this evening." Esme shrugs, apologetically, "Just some soup and salad."

"Don't forget, I made bread," Carlisle jumps in.

"Oh, yes, and Carlisle's homemade bread."

"_Oh_, _bread_. I'm embarrassed to say, it's my biggest weakness. I caught the aroma when we walked in… it smells amazing."

With the promise of a simple dinner, Bella's whole being changes. Her shoulders relax and her arms drop comfortable to her sides. She is no longer fidgeting with the buttons on her sweater. I catch Esme's eye and return her wink. They are compassion personified. I am so grateful.

"Why don't we go into the living room? Edward, fire?"

"Yes. I'd love to."

"It's a tradition," Esme explains to Bella, "Edward is always in charge of the fire." She leads the way. "We set up some fruit and cheese in there. Are you a brie person, Bella?"

"Brie and homemade bread. Be careful, I might move in by the end of the night."

"We have plenty of bedrooms."

I take a step to follow, but am pulled back by Carlisle's hand on my shoulder.

Quietly, but sternly, he says, "You know Edward, at some point, you need to tell Bella…"

"I know, I'll tell her."

Dinner conversation flows smoothly between the three of them. They talk about Bella's coursework at Seattle University, growing up in Forks, and baking bread.

"Oh, no. I'm not a baker. It's really only bread. There's something meditative about the kneading, the patience to let it rise, then punching it back down again."

"You should have seen his face the year I bought him a bread machine for Christmas," Esme laughs. "Carlisle tried so hard to look pleased. I had no idea it was all about the kneading, I just thought he liked bread."

"Bread machines," he scoffs, "sacrilege."

I try to participate, but I'm having difficulty staying in the moment. Instead, I find myself fantasizing what this dinner would be like with my parents. My father, so debonair, would charm Bella to no end. I'd have to pull him aside after dinner and teasingly tell him to back off. He'd take the opportunity to tell me how much he and Mom adore her, how happy they are for me, for us.

"So Esme, how did you and Carlisle meet?" Bella asks and I'm pulled back in; I love this story.

"Well, that depends…" Esme answers, "do you want the truth or Carlisle's rendition."

"I saved her life," Carlisle says with a wry smile.

"My husband is a liar. He did not save my life; he asked me to have coffee with him."

"Which is how I saved her life." The two of them stare across the table at one another. Esme raises her glass of wine to him and Carlisle begins.

"We met on The Pedestrian Bridge…"

"The Agmen," Esme clarifies for Bella.

"I was taking a walk and saw this woman, this beautiful woman, staring over the railing, looking so… sad."

"Contemplative, not sad, not depressed, Bella, I was contemplative."

"Of course, I was worried about her. I couldn't keep walking and leave her there alone. What if she did something tragic?" Carlisle embraces a melodramatic narration. "So I stopped a few yards away and devised a plan for talking her off the bridge."

"So I'm having my moment, my _contemplative _moment, and I notice this man standing a few yards from me. I move further down the bridge figuring we could each use our own space… and he follows me. I am thinking, wonderful, I have a stalker."

"I had to follow her. What if she jumped? I was ready to dive in after her."

"Carlisle, there isn't any water under that bridge."

"I know dear, but the story tells so much better this way."

"Anyway, after three or four moves down the bridge, I am preparing to run."

"I would have run after you."

"I know. That's the only reason I didn't run."

They hold each others gazes for a moment. It is rare for even me to see this much affection between them. Or, maybe it isn't, maybe I just didn't notice it before.

"Well, what happened?" Bella eagerly looks between the two of them. Carlisle looks a little smug as he tips his glass to Esme, and she let out a long, embarrassed sigh.

"The wind blew."

"The wind blew?" Bella is lost.

"The wind blew and I caught his… scent." She shakes her head, "Not necessarily a wise decision on my part, but I honestly thought, this man could not be a serial killer, he smells too good."

Carlisle does a poor job of concealing his huge grin, "I think the decision worked out in your favor."

"So, I let him inch nearer and nearer. The whole encounter probably took an hour. Eventually, he was standing right next to me."

"Coffee?" Carlisle says to her, as if they are the only ones in the room.

"Coffee. That is all he said." She returns his stare and then opens it up for all of us saying, "Less than a year later, we were married. And that is how Carlisle and I met."

"And that is how I saved her life," he smirks.

"That is so romantic." Bella says, meeting my eyes.

I drift out again, wondering what story Bella and I will tell. Will we even include Mike Newton? No. We'll come up with our own story. '_Edward saved my life._'

My eyes fall to her plate as they continue to talk. _Why aren't you eating, Bella?_

She moves the lettuce around with her fork, but never lifts it to her mouth. There's a piece of bread in her hand. Bella gestures with it as she talks, but she never eats it.

"As I told Edward, I can't wait to meet his parents."

_Fuck._

I hear Carlisle's fork clank onto his plate. Esme turns to me, with a big smile and raised brows that say, _this is on you, kiddo. _

I drop my head, not because I've been caught in a story or feel their disappointment, but because someday Bella will look back on this moment and feel like a fool. She will cry. It will be my fault. I can see it all in my mind.

The silence might be a split second or an hour. I have no idea. It's crushing my chest, I can think of nothing. _Lord, help me._

It is Isabella Swan, Professor of Grace, who slices through the tension. "Well, I know they travel a lot. All in good time, I guess."

"All in good time," Carlisle repeats.

"Has everyone had enough to eat? Bella, can I get you anything? More ice tea?"

"No, I'm great. Everything was delicious, thank you."

We all begin to rise to carry our plates into the kitchen.

Esme asks, "Coffee for everyone? I made dessert."

We all murmur our consent.

"Could you use a hand?"

"Yes, Bella, that would be great."

Bella and I bring our dishes into the kitchen while Carlisle and Esme stay behind. I'm sure they are sharing hushed words about me.

We put our dishes in the sink and I give Bella's shoulders a quick rub. She turns to face me and I kiss her forehead. I have nothing to say. _I'm sorry, Bella. _

I go into the living room and pretend to scan the new books on the bookshelf. Really, I'm just waiting for Carlisle.

I feel him approach.

"I've only known her a week," I say quietly. Carlisle says nothing, but when I glance at him standing next to me, I see he is slowly nodding. He, too, stares straight ahead, feigning interest in the books.

I lean in close to him and roughly whisper my defense, "What am I supposed to say, 'Hi Bella, I know you're going through a hard time, but can you put that on hold so I can tell you my sob story?" Quickly, I look over my shoulder hoping my voice didn't carry. Carlisle looks back, too. We listen to them laughing in the kitchen. They didn't hear, but they might.

When I meet his eyes, I see no trace of the disappointment I feared. He purses his lips in a firm line, but I think he might understand that my situation is difficult, my choices necessary. _Maybe._

"Carlisle, you know I don't like telling her… you know… not the truth, right?" His eyes flash—long enough for him to say the word 'lie' in his mind.

He tilts his head towards the front door, and after I nod my consent, he calls out in a light voice, "Edward and I are going to grab some more firewood from the shed."

"Great idea," Esme calls back, "let's keep the fire going."

Carlisle takes his time slipping on a jacket. He doesn't look at me again until he offers me my own, which I decline. Already reevaluating his disappointment in me, I'm far too warm for a jacket. I'm starting to perspire.

The cold wind on my face does little to dry my sweat, but gives me the air I need to take a full breath.

We walk to the shed in silence. I'm not sure what more there is to say. He's been quiet too long.

"Alright, I know it's a lie and I'm sorry for that. But, I'm doing it for her. You know that, right?"

"Oh, Edward," Carlisle sighs and puts his hands on my shoulder, grounding me, stopping me from twisting in the wind. "Let's talk about that." We enter the shed and he turns on the light. I immediately busy myself by going to the pile of firewood he keeps on a pallet. I sift through the kindling and reach for the larger pieces. Feeling each log from the pile, I collect the driest. _I'm not sure what there is to talk about. _

I shrug, "I don't think it's a good time to tell her, that's all. I've only known her a week." _Is this only obvious to me?_

"I know, Edward, you've already said that." His tone is careful. Arms crossed, leaning against his workbench, he keeps watching me. "Do you think there is a _good _time? Are you _waiting_ for a good time?"

"No… yes… I mean, I think I'll know when it's time."

"And what if that time doesn't come? How long are you willing to wait…? How do you think she'll feel when she finds…"

"I don't know." I cut him off, not willing to imagine her tears again.

"Edward, I know you don't talk about that night. Can I ask… who was the last person you told?"

"Jasper," I whisper. Carlisle starts putting the pieces of wood I've gathered in a heavy canvas tote to bring back to the house.

"It didn't seem to hurt your friendship." He says this like it is an answer to a common math problem, logical. _Maybe this is where I get it._

"He was already my best friend when I told him," I mutter.

"Oh." And the logical voice gives way to the compassionate one and he says, "You're waiting until you think Bella won't reject you."

"No. FUCK. I don't know." The piece of wood in my hand is perfect—only a foot long, but the thickness of the gripping end of a baseball bat. "Excuse me, Carlisle."

I walk outside and hurl the wood with all of my might towards the water. As soon as it releases from my hand, I feel a sharp stab in my shoulder, then hot pins and needles from my neck to my ribs. The stick flies end over end and I hear a distant splash. I grip my neck as it starts to cramp. I prefer this sensation to the one I felt a minute ago.

I turn to see Carlisle watching with a faint smile. "You still have a great arm."

"Thanks."

"Feel better?"

"A little." He steps aside to grant me entrance back into the shed. We aren't done.

"Sit down," he orders. I take a seat on the stool by the wood. "Rotator cuff?" Carlisle has a long history with my injuries.

"No, a cramp." He starts with firm pressure on my shoulder. "You know, Carlisle… I like the way Bella looks at me. If you could see how she looks at me…"

"Ohh… I've seen, I've seen. I've seen all night." I think he's rolling his eyes.

"Well, then you know. And I don't want that to change."

"You think it will change?" He says incredulously.

"I don't want her pity. I've had a lifetime worth of pity. _Ow._ And, I don't know… I think she looks at me the way she does because I take care of her, you know. I'm the strong one… sort of." Carlisle starts to chuckle and digs the heel of his hand further into my shoulder.

"Oh, great… so this is funny?"

"No. It's not funny, at all. I'm not laughing at you. I'm thinking about myself… how badly I wanted to be—tried to be—the strong one for Esme. I wanted to be the… well, the man. I thought that was what she liked about me."

"And?"

"And I learned it doesn't work that way, Edward. It's give and take. '_Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ_."

"Galatians 6:2." I nod. Intellectually, I understand this concept. But, at my core, I still want to be the strong one. I can be. Carlisle starts to work the muscles in my neck, "_Ow_," painfully so. This is sometimes his method: the rougher he is now, the more quickly I'll feel better.

"Here's another way to look at it. Right now, emotionally, Bella doesn't have much of a choice of what she can and can't reveal—she's too vulnerable."

"She tries. Trust me, she tries."

"Well, she might try. But she isn't very good at it, is she?"

"I guess not." _I don't know, is she?_

"Offer her the same vulnerability. It's only fair. What happened to your parents is a part of you, but it is not all of you."

"Mm-hm." He has said this to me before, but truthfully, this is where we disagree. My past is my shadow, attached to me forever. It follows me, haunts me, and on some days, is bigger than me. A long time ago I learned I cannot rid myself of it, but I can choose to ignore it. It is only there if I look at it.

And now, both of his hands are on my shoulders. His tone is so gentle, measured; it is almost my undoing. "I understand your fear, Son." _Please don't make me look at it._

"People reacted very, very… poorly. They didn't know what to say. You lost some friends." A bubble of emotion slowly rises from my stomach, I try to push it down before it reaches my mind… before feelings crystallize into thoughts-memories I'm forced to relive. "And we tried to help…"

_You did help. You did everything. _Fear, despair, fury, gratitude—feelings from the past crash into those from the present, churn together in my stomach, I no longer can decipher one from the other. I am falling. _I don't want to look._

The shadow is here… covering me… suffocating me.

I'm spiraling. In my bedroom—in this shed—I'm spiraling.

_Lord, don't make me do this—not now._

"Stop. Please. I can't do this right now," With ragged breath, my internal prayer becomes a vocalized appeal. Mercifully, Carlisle steps away and gives me time to come back to myself.

He finds his cooler, more logical voice, and gives me simple instructions: "Give yourself a few days to get used to the idea. _Pray on this._ You will tell her. She will understand."

"Okay."

"When you come back next Sunday, show her your bedroom. Tell her about your life here." _He's giving me a deadline. _"Esme and I will help in any way we can."

"I know. Thank you." Slowly, I roll my head and shoulder, feeling the muscles stretch back out.

Carlisle's face is still etched with remnants of worry, "You need a few more minutes?"

"No, I'm good. Let's go back."

~0~

I'll take Bella out to dinner, a second date. I should have a few drinks over dinner—but not too many. We'll go back to my condo; I'll be more comfortable there. I'll sit her down and tell her. It's no big deal… I'm making much more of this than it needs to be. What happened to my parents happens all the time. I can tell her the whole story in about three sentences… and then I'll kiss her. We'll kiss so we don't have to talk. That's it. We'll kiss and have wild sex and forget about the whole conversation. But our sex isn't that wild… maybe it should be. I'd like to have some wild sex right now.

"Edward," her voice startles me, her touch on my upper arm, even more so. "Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah." I focus back on the road, on my driving. "I'm great Bella-bean."

"Bella-bean. That's sweet." Her smile can't cover her wary expression.

"I think I'm just tired."

"I know. We should go to sleep early tonight. How is your paper coming?"

"Good. Maybe an hour of editing and I'm done."

"Oh, good. I have a little surprise for you when you're finished." _Blowjob?_

"Really?"

"Yes." She giggles at my exuberance. "Now don't get your hopes up, it's not that big of a deal." _If it's a blowjob, it is a very big deal._

"Look at that salacious smile. What are you thinking, dirty boy?" I can't help but to laugh; she is starting to read me so well.

"What? Nothing." I reach over and put my hand on her knee.

"Edward," her tone mocks admonishment.

"What? It's just on your knee." I slowly glide my hand up her skirt, up her thigh.

She squeals, and before I get too far, she squeezes her legs together and grabs my hand. "_Stop_. Keep your hands on the wheel." I comply, but shift my eyes to catch her huge smile as she says, "Later… after you finish your paper."

_Sex is the ultimate distraction. I feel better already._

"If I don't finish it, will you dress like a school teacher and spank me with a ruler?" _ Where did that come from? Filter, Edward, filter! _

Before I can apologize, she says, "No, I will not. That is hardly motivation for doing your schoolwork. But, who knows, Halloween is coming up… you might get lucky."

_Marry me, Isabella Swan. _

~0~

I stand in the doorway of her little bedroom and watch her sitting cross-legged on her on her little bed. _Everything is so little here. _Bella intently stares at her computer screen and her ear buds are in, so she doesn't notice me. There are cds scattered everywhere. She's taking this happy iPod thing quite seriously. I notice an outfit, a work outfit, hanging on the back of her closet. My mood does a nosedive.

"Hi. I didn't see you there."

I snap my eyes back to her. "I… um… was just watching you."

"I'm working on my music project. Are you all done your paper?"

"Yep. And I brought you something." I reveal the milkshake I was hiding behind my back.

"Oh. A milkshake. I guess I didn't hear the blender." She holds up her ear buds and gives a weak smile; she doesn't sound enthused. "Thank you." Bella rolls up to her knees, takes it from me and, without drinking any, places it on the nightstand behind her. "Let me clean up my mess here." She starts to pile up the cds and place them back in their cases.

I shove my hands in my pockets and lean in the doorway. "Would you rather have cereal?"

She doesn't look at me when she says, "Um… no. I like that these are special for me. Really, thank you." She shrugs and scrunches her nose, "I'm not really hungry right now."

"You barely ate today." My voice is a cold whisper. I know I sound like a prick. But she scarcely touched her dinner—even Carlisle asked about her eating. What will Charlie say when he sees her next week? I'm not doing my job.

Though she smiles, Bella's brow is creased. "What are you talking about? We just came from dinner."

I say nothing and Bella knows why. The longer I stand here, the angrier I become. She glances at me a few times as she pretends to write something on her notepad.

"Oh, you know what," she taps her forehead and meets my eyes again, "I ate lunch with Alice while you were working on your paper." Bella moves onto her knees and begins to organize cds. "Didn't I tell you? You ate, didn't you? It was completely rude of me not to get you something. I should have…"

"You ate half of a cheese sandwich. That hardly constitutes lunch."

In mid-reach for a cd, she freezes, then sits back down and brings her knees up and pulling her skirt down to cover them.

"I don't like that you're talking about me," she whispers, her eyes downcast. I can't tell if she's hurt or angry, probably both.

"Why aren't you eating?" I aim for some tenderness in my voice, but completely fail. She doesn't answer, so I press on. "You promised to tell me if you weren't doing fine." I am a raw nerve. This day has been too long and I have no patience left. _You said you would surrender. _"Too upset about Alice? Is it work? You know I don't think you should go back there…"

"No. I'm just not hungry." She shrugs, and holds her knees more tightly, "It feels like my stomach shrunk… I get full quickly."

"You have to fight against that. You have to eat more calories than you are."

She leans back, grabs the milkshake, and takes a sip through the straw. She's not only placating me, there's something else here. "Edward, I am trying." She finally looks up at me, but I don't soften. Rather, I continue blinking down at her.

"_I am trying,_" Bella's frustration surfaces. "And… I wanted to have a nice night together. And I made this playlist… and… I'm trying. And... I got you a surprise… And now Carlisle and Esme think I'm rude. And I hate disappointing you." _Oh. Fuck. She's losing it. She's going to cry and it's my fault. Damn it. _"I can't… can't take disappointing you."

I step out of whatever role I was playing, and leave it like a shell behind me. Before her tears fall, I take the glass from her and put it on the desk. Quickly, I lean down, hold her face and press my cheek to hers, whispering, "I'm sorry, Bella. So sorry." She nods.

I hold her face, but she still looks down. "You're not disappointing me. You could never disappoint me. Sometimes I get carried away. I get… I get carried away with worry… and I sound like a douche." I hoped my word choice would bring on a laugh, but it doesn't. I tilt her head up. _No tears. _"Yell at me. Tell me when I'm sounding like that."

Bella nods, but the aura of hurt still surrounds her. _Was this a fight? I don't know_. "Bella, tell me we're okay."

"We're okay," she attempts a smile for my benefit.

"Carlisle and Esme didn't notice anything. It's just me worrying. You know I worry because I care about you, right?"

Bella sniffles and nods before saying, "I do. And you know I care about you too, right?"

"I do."

Bella pats the bed in front of her, and I sit down.

"Talk to me."

"I don't know. Trying to eat has been harder than I thought it would be. But I'll figure it out. Let me figure it out. I can handle it, alright?"

I look into her eyes and realize that, no matter what I am really feeling, there is only one correct response, "Alright." After planting a kiss on the side of her mouth, I whisper in her ear, "You are so tough, Isabella Swan." _So tough, you're driving me insane._

I feel her smile and she drags her lips along my face until she reaches my mouth and kisses me. Her lips are gentle but wanting, open, wet.

"Promise you won't get so tough you shut me out."

"I won't. I promise." Now I'm kissing her. Single, soft kisses as I lay her back on the bed. Sweet, wet kisses. The sound of our mouths is as arousing as her taste.

Continuing to kiss her as I climb further onto the bed, I reach down into my pants and adjust my growing erection. And then my hands are on either side of her and I'm lowering myself to kiss her again.

Her hands on my chest halt me, "Wait." _Wait? _

"We should… um…" She looks around, for what, I don't know. _Please not the lamp, you look so pretty in this light._ "There's music… and a surprise." _Blowjob?_ "Edward, I had things planned out. Please, patience is a virtue."

"Touché." I give her a quick peck. "You're killing me Bella."

I crawl off the bed. With urgency, Bella grabs her laptop presses some keys and looks down at my iPod. "Hold on… I just need to do a couple of things."

"I have an idea. Let's have a complete do-over."

"Do-over?"

"Yeah." I take the milkshake and leave the bedroom. I put the glass down and from outside the door I say, "Let me know when you're ready." _Come on, Edward make her laugh._

"Ready."

I take a single, wide step into the doorway, raise my arms in victory and say, "I finished my paper. Let's have sex." Bella laughs. _Thank you, God._

"That sounds great. But first… um… Edward, I'm not really hungry, but I should eat a little something. Would you share a milkshake with me?" _She's trying. She's really trying. _I want to ask her if she's doing this for her or for me, but really, I don't care.

"Yes. Half a milkshake coming right up." Bella mirrors my wide smile.

I take two new glasses out of the cupboard and split the milkshake between them. I bend down to see the glasses at eye-level, and carefully go back and forth filling each glass until they are even.

When I return to the bedroom, there is a small, silver Nordstrom bag on Bella's bed. _Blowjobs from Nordstrom? No, it's a tie. The bag is the right size for a tie. I'll wear it everyday. _

Bella takes the glass and a long sip through the straw, "Delicious, thank you."

She nudges the bag towards me and I sit on the edge of the bed. "When did you go to Nordstrom?"

"Oh… I didn't. It's not from Nordstrom. I didn't have any wrapping paper or gift bags. This was the prettiest shopping bag I had so…" Her voice trails off and she shrugs. I reach for it, and she snatches the bag back, "It's really nothing… it's not a big deal… I hope I didn't build it up too…"

"Hand it over, Swan." She smiles and slides it back across the bed to me. Somehow I know that anything that is in this bag will be better than a blowjob. I reach my hand in, but watch her anxious face, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. I'm surprised to find the crinkle of cellophane.

I want to guess, but I have no clue. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, just open it… look at it… whatever."

I pull the contents out of the bag. Three pairs of hospital socks. Three pairs of hermetically sealed hospital socks. I'm speechless.

"You see. It's not a big deal. I found Nurse Siobhan from Emergency. And, um… she gave them to me, for you."

"I…" I shake my head to clear away dark memories and try again. "I… " My eyes begin to burn. I swallow and try to fight off the tears. _It's stupid. I'm so stupid._

I'm falling again—dizzy. I get the words out before it's too late, "I love them. Thank you. It's the nicest gift I've ever received."

I close my eyes and wait for Bella to say something pithy or snarky, something to cut through the heavy air, because I have nothing. Instead I feel her gentle hands on my face, her forehead pressed against mine.

I hear her soft voice, "Edward, what's going on? Please tell me."

_I want to be the strong one._ And it is the raging sixteen year old who saves me, _'Don't cry, you pussy. Pull it together.' _

"It's nothing… I love them." She searches my eyes a little too long. "Really. It's just been a crazy day." Her thumbs are under my eyes, as if she's wiping tears, but there are no tears. _Are you looking for tears?_ _There will be no tears._

Pulling away, I start to open one of the bags. I want to put them on right now, show her how much I love them. And I need to move, move away from her touch, away from her pity.

"You're putting them on right now?"

"Yes. That's how much I love them," I say slipping them on. I stand and show them off like I'm Vanna White showing a letter. "What do we think?" _Please laugh, Bella._ _Please stop looking so concerned. _I wiggle my toes. "Well? Don't like them with these pants?"

Bella reaches out and grabs my hand. She rubs her thumb over my knuckles, pulls my hand to her mouth, and plants a soft kiss. "I'm glad you like them, Edward."

Desperate to divert her train of thought, I enthusiastically say, "I love them, they're great. And I believe our night isn't over. You mentioned something about music. I am open to whatever you picked for tonight's selection. Lay it on me." The shy smile lets me know we can move on.

"Well, I… um… want to dance."

"Dance?"

"Yeah," the smile grows. "This morning, I saw that you have a playlist titled, Dance, and I got curious and excited and I've been thinking about dancing with you ever since."

"Dance." _Bella, this is one of my only skills._ _I want to dance with her so badly, there are no words._

"Um… yeah, dance. You have really good songs in there—like things written after 1975. Your workout playlist is really good, too."

I turn my wrist so it is my hand holding hers instead of hers holding mine, "Ms. Swan, I thought you would never ask." The bright pink that flushes her cheeks is so girlish, I almost feel lecherous. "Please dance with me, Isabella."

"Oh, um… okay." She's flustered, sincerely flustered and I am feeling like _the man_. "I don't have speakers or anything. It's just from my mac."

"Your song choice. What will it be? Sinatra? Johnny Mathis? Nat King Cole?"

As I hold one hand, Bella scrolls through her playlist with the other. "It's the new Sinatra," she giggles. My confusion must be evident. Bella continues, "You'll see, it's only a couple of years old." The synthesized percussion squeezes its way out of her laptop. "Good, right?"

"Very good. Come here, sexy." I pull her up and hold her firmly to my proud chest. Small movements—I rock her with me in small movements.

_Yeah I'm out that Brooklyn, now I'm down in Tribeca.  
Right next to DeNiro, but I'll be hood forever  
I'm the new Sinatra, and since I made it here  
I can make it anywhere_

"Jay-Z on your iPod."

"Don't forget Alicia Keys, she makes the song."

"Edward, will you be hood forever?"

"This white boy is so hood Bella, it would scare you. Didn't you see my colors back at the condo."

"Must have missed them. Are you a Crip or Blood?

"Both. That's how hood I am. Oh. And I'm a Latin King."

One hand on the small of her back and the other is holding hers. I feel her hand move from my shoulder to the nape of my neck as I move her with me in small, perfect rhythmic steps. _Dear Heavenly Father, thank you for my kick-ass dancing abilities. Never in my life have I been more grateful for them than in this very moment. _

I turn Bella under my arm, feeling her tiny waist rotate under my fingers. I pull her into me more tightly than before and start to move us into the living room. And she lets me. _Bella lets me lead_. I am amazed.

"A Dance playlist? Does this mean you dance around your home?" _Yes _

"Maybe." I can't help myself, I hunch down, press my cheek to hers and rap with Jay-Z:

"_Yellow cab, gypsy cab, dollar cab, holla back_

_For foreigners it ain't for they act like they forgot how to act  
Eight million stories, out there in it naked  
City is a pity, half of y'all won't make it."_

She responds by singing Alicia Keys' chorus, "_New York, concrete jungle where dreams are made of. There's nothin' you can't do_…"

Bella rests her face on my chest as she sings and I continue to move us. _This is all I need._ The scent of her hair, the feeling of her warm body pressed against me, and her trust in me to move for us. This is happiness.

She looks up at me with a calm expression. _You feel it too, Bella don't you?_ _Let me lead; always let me lead_. "Edward, where did you learn to dance so well?"

"The nuns."

"There's a story here."

"Parochial middle school. We spent two solid weeks every year learning how to dance."

"Get out."

"No, it's the truth."

"What did they teach you?"

"Waltz, Foxtrot… Swing… pretty much everything. But they went light on the Latin dances."

"Oh, what I wouldn't give to watch a bunch of little boys in blazers… did you have blazers?"

"Of course."

"Little boys in blazers partner dancing with one another."

"Whoa. You don't think they'd let us dance with each other do you? Ohhh, no. Every morning for two weeks, they bussed in girls from our sister school."

"You're kidding." I spin her away from me and when I bring her back, I crush her a little hard against my chest. I try to keep my erection away from her, just as the nuns taught us, but I feel a growing need everywhere.

"At the end of the two weeks we would have a dance. Big competition."

"And?"

"Theresa D'Archangelo and I won the Swing contest three years in a row."

"Theresa, huh? I'm a little jealous."

"You should be. She let me feel her up in the locker room after every win."

Bella gasps, "That little hussy."

"Genius really. She knew how to motivate me. We also took second in the Free Style competition in our last year. Who knows what would have happened if we won."

"I'm going to call her up and give her a piece of my mind."

"The last I heard, she was on her sixth child."

"Gauh. We Catholics. When are we going to learn that the rhythm method just doesn't work?"

Bella releases my hand and moves her palms down my back. She tentatively rests her palms close to, but not on, my backside. I cup her sweet ass, my touch, not so tentative. The nuns are not here—nothing wrong with a little bump and grind.

It is Alicia Key's melody that guides the movement of our hips. In a bold move, Bella turns her back. I hold her to me, my arms around her waist, and she allows me to grind my erection into her. She reciprocates, moving with me. I bend my knees and my arousal finds a happy place nestled between her cheeks. I think I'm becoming obsessed with her backside. The grinding only lasts for a few measures of music, but it is enough to awaken the Keith Richards inside of me.

I spin Bella away from me and release her hand. I sit on the sofa, slouch down, and stretch my arms across the back, watching her spin again and again, her hands in her hair, lost in the music. For just a second she becomes self-conscious seeing me sitting there, but she doesn't stop moving.

"Dance for me."

Hesitating for a moment, I see her chest heave, then she complies, starting to move again. Her willingness makes my arousal heavy and hot.

Bella's eyes grow dark and she starts to move so slowly, so seductively. Her hips make a continuous figure eight as her hands skim over her body. She brings her arms gracefully up over her head. The sweater rises to show me that sliver of creamy flesh above her skirt.

"The sweater." I don't recognize my own husky voice.

Bella hips continue to undulate, her eyes burning into mine. At a painstaking pace she removes the sweater and lets it slink off of her bare arms and drop to the floor. She is in nothing but a camisole and knee-length, full skirt. Her nipples are straining through the thin cotton. This is criminal.

I don't know if she is toying with me, but Bella bites her lip and my erection begins to pulse. The muscles in my thighs clench and release involuntarily. My pants are soaked with pre-come.

I want to stroke myself as I watch her dance for me… as she strips for me. The thought alone makes my hips jerk. I can't bring myself to do it, but I can't hold out any longer without touch.

"Come here."

Bella meanders over and straddles me on the couch, keeping her sex off of mine. She looks downs at me and quietly sings with Alicia Keys—this must be on repeat. _Nice move, Bella. _

Her hips continue to swivel as she lowers herself slightly, enough to graze my cock with her heat, before she rises again, leaving me wanting. My head falls back and a low growl rises from deep within my chest. I can't take any more. I'm not sure what kind of dark game we're playing. And I'm not sure I like it, but I'm certain I shouldn't. I don't even know why I haven't held her yet, my arms still stretched out.

Finally, Bella reaches down and, with one finger, strokes the hard line of need in my pants. "Fuck, Bella," I pant out.

She sits back on my thighs and unbuttons my pants—my erection is straining against the zipper. I'm gripping the couch. Finally, she frees me. My cock throbs between us.

Bella says, "I like this." _Holy fuck. I'm dying. Even Keith Richards is dying._ I start to move my hips, shallow thrusts into the… air. _Great, now I'm fucking the air._

"I like this because it's for me. You get it for me." And her voice, her sweet, bashful voice brings me out of the dark.

I put my arms around her and slide my hands up the back of her camisole. Her skin is so smooth. "It's for you, Bella. It's only for you."

I kiss her forcefully—commanding, controlling her mouth and tongue. My need so evident, overpowering any thought. My hands slide up her soft thighs and immediately find their way under the silk of her panties. The music becomes obscured by the sound of our warm breath, sucking mouths, and pounding hearts—it's better than any music… it's our song.

My fingers explore the flesh in the clef of her backside and slide around to graze her clitoris. I'm no longer surprised by her wetness, but nonetheless, thrilled by it. The scent of her desire is obscuring all reason. I want to be inside of her… need to be inside of her. "Ride me, Bella." _Did I just say that? Yes, I did._ "I want to feel you. I want to feel you come on me."

With wide eyes, she stumbles through her sentence, "If you… I'm… not sure… if you want… I don't think I can…" Keith Richards allows it to go too long, hoping it would somehow end in a resounding yes. The guy holding the bible gives Keith a kick in the teeth and he falls to the back of my mind.

"It's okay, another time. But I need you, Bella, I need you right now." _I should take her into the bedroom. The couch would be messy. Fuck it, I'll buy a new one. _

We're moving fast. I lay Bella back across the cushions. Keeping one foot on the floor and one knee on the couch, I pull off her panties. She sits up and pushes down my pants, feeling the circle of pre-come. "You're all wet."

"Right back at ya, Bella."

I position myself at the center of her. "I'm going to come fast," _sorry_, "are you ready?"

"Yes. It will be our first quickie."

"Thanks for calling it our first."

Bella squeezes her eyes shut, looking like she's preparing for an amputation without anesthesia. _No, No, No._

"Are you still sore?"

"No, I'm good… go ahead… _please_." I pause, wondering what to do next. When Bella lifts her pelvis to meet mine, I decide to take her at her word_._ I hold her hips in the air and begin to push into her; only the tip of me feels the warmth of her flesh, when met with the wall within her that shuts me out—_always shuts me out._

"_Fuck_." The coarseness of her voice and word surprise me. She squeezes her eyes shut and turns her head. Though she articulated my thought, hearing it out loud, and from her, gives it a different meaning. I rest our hips down, trying to keep that small part of me inside of her.

"Hey." Bella doesn't respond. Leaving one hand on her hip, I take the other and turn her head to me. "Hey… Bella, look at me." She opens her eyes, but stares at the ceiling. My voice is assured, "We do not get upset about this. Do you hear me?" The flutter of lashes tells me she's holding back tears. "No, no, no. This is not something we cry about."

Bella's expression melts into a pout, a very real pout, as she continues to fight off tears and says, "What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong with you, Isabella." _I hope._

"I'm frigid," she whimpers.

"No, no you're not. You know what I think? I think the last time my guy parts were this close to your lady parts, there was a lot of pain."

A flash of dangerous determination crosses her face, and in an instant, she's digging her heels into my backside and trying to buck her hips into me.

"_No_." With both hands, I press her hips to the sofa, and I pull out of her. Under her skirt, I feel my cock on her thigh. It wants back in. It is restless.

"_Please._ I can take it… just thrust, push into me." _Bella Swan might have a death wish, after all. _

"Oh, yes. That will make your lady parts real happy." I reign in my temper, but speak quickly, "We need to be gentle here, because right now they're scared. They're saying, '_Hey Bella, we like this guy's mouth and fingers, but we're not too sure about what's going on between his legs_." Bella smiles sadly at my falsetto. I will gladly make myself a fool if it stops impending tears.

"And they should be scared," I continue. "Because my guy part is a total doofus who's like, '_When do I get to go in the warm place_?' He thinks about being inside of you all the time."

"He does?" _Can't you feel him twitching on your leg?_

"Yes. And he's not alone, he's got a couple of friends with him." _Please touch his friends someday._ "And they're all hood, all three of them, just like me."

I'm still standing on one leg, and find balance by resting my forearm on the armrest behind Bella's head.

"Gentle, see?" I reach between her legs and brush my thumb over her clitoris. "Gentle."

"Gentle," she breathes back. I continue to stoke her swollen flesh as I stare down at her.

"Good, right?"

"So good," she mewls.

I tease the opening of her sex, tapping my fingers. Bella stifles a long, moan by biting her lip.

"Oh, no, Isabella. I want to hear you. I want to hear what my touch does to you." I continue to tease and stroke, "Say my name."

"Edward," she whispers, her voice is as raw as my body.

I slide two fingers into her, not far, and Bella bucks her hips and lets out a cry of ecstasy.

"Does that feel good?" _I know it does._

"Yes. _God, yes_." I use the heel of my palm to give her more pressure and Bella starts to grind on my hand, controlling her own pleasure.

"That's it, Bella, move on me. Do what feels good."

Our gaze never breaks as she lifts her arms above her head. Her hands push against the armrest as her sex pushes against my hand and she finds her own rhythm.

"Edward," she cries out.

"That's right, Bella."

My need has become raw, burning. Involuntarily, my cock starts to flex—tensing and releasing on her thigh. A quiet tremor courses throughout my body. I begin to flex my fingers inside of her in time with my own body. Loud moans pour out of her and I watch, in awe, her mounting arousal.

"That's it, Bella. Come on my hand."

I gaze down at her dark chocolate eyes, her writhing body- her glowing face in the center of a halo of chestnut hair spread out over the sofa. Her face, a mix of bliss and torture—I want her to come.

My cock brushes against her thigh with her movement. Every molecule of my six feet, two inches is ignited. Wanting.

"You're so gorgeous. Let me see you come."

My balls tighten. _Fuck._

Bella gasps and cries, "I feel it. I'm open"

I slide my fingers into her. _Oh, she's open_. Quickly, I withdraw and grip the sofa behind her. In one motion, I lunge at Bella, and slide into home. The second I am enveloped in her tight heat, "_Oh, fuck_," my orgasm rockets through me. My hips jerk wildly as I climax. I bury myself into her. Loud, guttural sounds cry from deep within me. I am a trembling mass of white-hot ecstasy forcefully releasing into her-every emotion, every thought, every memory, all of me. I come so hard, so hard, "_Oh, God," _so hard.

I collapse, sucking inadequate amounts of air through the upholstery. I still can't breath. I feel her arms and legs wrapped tightly around me, my skin still ablaze. She is touching my face, stroking my back. Her voice soothing, encouraging. I'm too far away. They are sounds, but not words. In my daze, I fantasize she's telling me she loves me.

"Edward," Bella's voice is clearer, but still soft. _I must be crushing her._ I try to move off of her body and onto my leg, still on the ground. Clumsy and exhausted, I fall onto my back between the sofa and the coffee table.

Bella crawls onto me. "Edward, did you hurt yourself?"

I stroke her legs on either side of me. "No, I'm great." She rests her head on my chest, pressing her body to mine. I relish the feel of her rising and falling with my breath.

_Oh, she needs to come. How do I do this? Fingers? _I palm her backside, _yes, I'm becoming obsessed,_ and move my fingers to her sex. Bella inhales sharply. _Too sensitive?_

"I'm good," she says.

"But you didn't…"

"Yes I did." She smiles up at me.

"Isabella…?" I narrow my eyes.

"No. I did… I swear." I can't tell when she orgasms. _Best. Lover. Ever. _"It was different. Awesome, really."

I move my hands over her body in long, circular strokes—her legs, her back, her arms.

"Awesome?"

"Yeah. You starting first… I could feel… um… everything."

"You mean you could feel my hard, hot cock coming inside of you?"

"Stop it." Bella slaps my chest and rests her head back down, "You and your perverted dirty talk."

"You know you love it." Her giggles shoot to my heart.

"Maybe I do. Yes, Edward, I could feel your penis orgasm inside of me… my vagina," we both laugh even harder.

"It wasn't just my penis, gorgeous, it was all of me." The heat of her blush warms my chest.

"Whatever. I liked it."

"Good. Because I'm sure it won't be the first time I orgasm first."

"Mmm. I could fall asleep right here."

"Good plan, I'm in." I turn her head and blow in her ear.

"No, we can't."

"Convince me."

"This song will be etched in our heads forever."

"I can live with that."

Bella wordlessly grumbles and peels herself off of me. I grab her hands as she stands above me. I whine like a child, "Noooo. Come back to floor with me. I want to cuddle."

"Come on, we'll cuddle in bed."

"No. Cuddle here."

"Edward, bed." Bella tries with all of her might to pull me off the floor. It's quite comical. With one slight tug, she falls back onto my chest.

"See, we're perfect right here."

"Edward."

"Give me one good reason why we can't stay here all night."

"I have to set my alarm. Work tomorrow."

.

.

* * *

**A/N:**

Though it took 100,000 words to get through week one of their relationship, it won't take that long to get through week two… more information is coming.

I've added some details about myself on my profile—it might interest some of you.

I'd love to hear what you think.

Warm regards,

Liz x


	13. Pretending

A/N:

Real life has finally slowed and I'm looking forward to responding to reviews and spending time on the Twilighted thread.

Thanks to Team SGMR: Orangeapeal, Robsjenn, Sunshine, and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady.

Not safe for work… but read it anyway, you know you want to.

This chapter is dedicated to Jeanne, aka Einfach_Mich

* * *

Chapter 13  
Pretending

_Eleven, twelve, thirteen_… I drop the knife and raise my arms in victory. "And the crowd roars. Ladies and gentlemen, Edward Masen has managed thirteen slices out of one tomato! It is a new personal record." I laugh to myself; I love pretending my daily tasks are being broadcast through sports radio. Grabbing another tomato, I try for new record.

_Dear Lord, thank you for this chef's knife. Really, thank you for Esme who gave it to me. I never took it out of the package because it looked too expensive, but now that I cook every night, I understand the power of a good knife. It might be my favorite Earthly possession… well… I like my iPod, too… _

I hear her key at the front door.

"Hi honey, I'm home."

"In the kitchen."

Bella walks in and drops her bags in the doorway. "Mmm… something smells good." She gives me a quick peck and, with a little boost from me, takes her typical seat on the counter below the breakfast bar.

"Roasted chicken." I give her another kiss as I stand between her legs. "What can I get you to drink?"

"What are you having?"

"Sauvignon Blanc."

"Sounds good, a small one. I'm famished." Bella takes a tomato slice, tilts her head back and feeds it to herself.

"Really?" I've learned over the past few days that Bella always eats when I cook.

"Really, Edward. Tell me about your day."

I take a glass from the rack above her head and pour a glass of wine.

"Good, pretty busy. I got an A on my paper."

"_You did?_ The one from this weekend?" Bella looks as if I won the Nobel Prize.

"No. I didn't get that one back yet. This is a paper from last week— my Methodist Doctrine Seminar."

She claps her hands. "I'm so proud of you. We should put it on the refrigerator."

"It's already there." We both turn to look at heavy-duty magnet holding the paper with a red 'A' on the title page.

"Will you tell me all about it over dinner?" And I know it's not an empty offer. Bella sincerely seems to enjoy talking about my research.

"Yes. I'd love to… it's about The Methodist Church linking to The Evangelical United Brethren in 1968. Several fractions of the religions went ballistic." _No, Edward, this is not interesting dinner conversation. _

"Ooooh. I love church drama." _Thanks, Bella._ We clink glasses and take a sip. "Mmm. That's good, really good. Gosh, you buy good wine." Bella takes a big breath and asks the question we ask around this time every night, "So, are you ready for real life talk?"

"Ready." This is the time that we stop pretending we're playing house. We discuss the real life matters that would penetrate our happiness if we didn't compartmentalize them.

"Rose said I just missed you at the hospital. I got there around four," Bella says.

"Yeah. I was there this morning and stopped back for a few minutes after lunch. How did she seem for you?"

"Good. I think she's ready. The doctors, her parents, even Alice… everyone sounds very optimistic about the surgery."

"Alright. Good. Yes, she seemed good for me, too. Ten o'clock?"

"Ten o'clock."

"And The Outfitters will survive without you tomorrow."

"Yes, Edward, in fact, that is real life agenda item number two."

"You're quitting?"

"Stop." Bella glares at me for a moment, then breaks into a smile. "I picked up my paycheck today, with a couple of little surprises."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yep: a big old raise and a letter waiving the condo loan."

"Well, no kidding." Bella raises her glass to me and I join her. "Way to go Mr. and Mrs. N." Since Bella's story of the Newtons' apologetic breakdown, I'm finding more compassion for the couple.

"Last agenda item…" I know what's on Bella's mind.

"The apartment is getting there. It will be ready when Alice moves home next week."

"Is the apartment manager still giving you a hard time?"

"No. I stuck Mr. Brandon on him. He was looking for a job to do and that man is a force to be reckoned with. The manager… the owners, are imbeciles—horrible businessmen. They are getting a wheelchair accessibility renovation at cost and they're complaining. They will be able to charge a fortune for that unit after you two move out."

"They can't do that; it would be against the Americans with Disabilities Act."

"There are ways around the ADA. You can't charge more for the same unit, but this unit would no longer be the same." Bella looks disgusted. "I know, Bella, it's business."

"It's sick. I should get my law degree and work for the ACLU."

"I am completely in favor of that plan." I stand between her legs and give her a kiss. "All done with real life?"

"All done. We're having chicken for dinner?"

I drag my nose along her jaw and inhale deeply. Her scent comforts me, grounds me.

"Mmm-hmm… roasted chicken." I trail feather-light kisses along her neck, "And mashed potatoes," I murmur on her skin and make my way across her collarbone.

"I love mashed potatoes. I can make them while you finish your plate of tomatoes."

"I got a little knife happy again tonight." I feel Bella gently finger my hair as I bend down and kiss her sternum, saying, "I'll make the potatoes. That's my job. I got fresh cream and buttah."

"Mmmm. Buttah? Someone's been watching Paula Dean again."

I start to unbutton Bella's lavender blouse and continue my path to the swell of her breasts.

"Tomorrow night, I'll cook for you. Name anything you want…. you like steak, right?"

"Don't like my cooking?" I undo the next button and continue my descent.

"I love your cooking. I just want to take care of you."

"I don't need you to take care of me."

I go to touch her breast, but her chest caves, pulling away… she stops playing with my hair. I meet her eyes and lean back to get a better look at her.

"Is something wrong? You look pale all of a sudden."

"Um… no. I'm fine. I think I'm just tired."

"Don't you feel well?" I feel her forehead to check for a fever, but she pulls my hand away.

"Edward. No, I feel fine. I'm… tired. I don't want to mess up dinner. What time do you think it will be ready?"

"I can turn it off. Lie down, take a nap, we'll eat later."

"Edward, please… I just… twenty minutes?" I think she's upset, but I have no idea why.

"Yeah, sure… twenty minutes. I'll come up and get you."

"Okay, thanks." Bella slinks down from the counter, grabs her bags, and walks out of the kitchen.

For twenty minutes I try to figure out what went wrong. Alice is well… Bella's job—which I hate—is good. She's famished… she likes mashed potatoes. It must be me. I'm the problem.

I climb the steps and find Bella under a blanket, holding Pedi and a handkerchief. I lie down alongside of her and stroke her cheek with the back of my hand. "Are you crying?"

"No," she whispers, and reciprocates by stroking my face.

"I said something wrong. What did I say?" She says nothing for a moment, but gives me her sad smile.

"Edward…" she begins, but pauses. Uh-oh. She has her Professor of Grace face on, the same expression she used with the Newtons. I must have really messed up. "Why do you like doing things for me?"

"Because I care about you."

"Mmm, yes. Because you care about me." She continues to stroke my face and play with my hair. Her voice is so calm, soothing. I don't feel like I'm in trouble. "I'm a lucky, lucky woman. And, what if I didn't have you? What do you think I would do?"

"I don't know."

"Do you think I could survive on my own?"

"I don't know… I guess so… I… I don't like to think about that. I don't like to think about us not being together."

"Me neither." I'm relieved that her response is so quick, but I'm confused, I don't know where this is going. "But if I had to, if I really had to… I could find a way to survive. I'm glad I don't have to, but I can take care of myself, Edward. Okay?"

"Okay."_ Are you breaking up with me?_

"_Oh, Edward._ Don't look so sad. Come here."

I scoot up to her and rest my head under hers for a change. She wraps her arms around me and I let her rosemary and peppermint fragrance envelope me.

"What's the matter, Edward?"

"I don't know what I did wrong and I'm afraid I'll do it again."

"You didn't do anything wrong. You feel good making me dinner and I feel good that you made me dinner, right?"

"Right."

"But they feel good for different reasons. I want the joy of taking care of you… I want to express how much I care about you, by doing things for _you_."

"Like making me steak?"

"Like making you steak."

I look up at Bella, my angel, and recite a line from St. Francis, her prayer, "For it is in giving that we receive?"

"Exactly. Thank you," she whispers and kisses the top of my head.

I get it. Balance. I rest my head back down on her chest.

"So, Edward… tomorrow night, I'll make steak?"

"Mmm." I nuzzle her breasts. I'm so happy here. At the moment, I don't care that I'm not the man.

"Is there something else you'd rather have?"

"Do you make lasagna?" I ask against her skin.

"I make a kick-butt lasagna."

~0~

"Boy, I like this bathtub," Bella says as I lather the front of her body with my soapy hands.

"I like having you in this bathtub," I say and kiss her temple.

_Successful dinner, 'A' on my paper, nude girlfriend in my arms… life is good._

"Mmm. I really like this." Bella strokes the showerhead anchored to the side of the tub.

"Yeah. I guess it's nice. It um… matches the other fixtures."

Bella doesn't respond, but continues to run two fingers over the showerhead.

"Um… here, Bella, do you want to use it?" I lift it from the cradle and hand it to her. Bella's breath hitches… _I'm missing something here._

"You… you want me to use it?" Her breath quickens.

"Sure, if you want to." Reluctantly, she takes it. Yes, I'm definitely missing something. _Showerhead, showerhead… think, Edward. No, I haven't read anything about showerheads. _

"Do you want to use it on me?" Her voice is careful, but sultry.

"Um… sure." Turning the showerhead away from her, I pull the lever. The cold blast falls into the water and I wait until feel the water warms against my hand. I rinse the suds from her neck.

"Edward, do your magazines mention anything about showerheads?" _No, and I'm fucking clueless right now. _

"Enlighten me." _Yes, that sounds much better._

"Well… a good showerhead can be a girl's best friend… especially to a girl like me." _A girl like her…? Um… from Forks… brunette… Catholic… oh, wait… no… no… no, it couldn't be for...? Could it? Yes. Please yes. _

"Show me." I take her hand and place it over mine, holding the showerhead. Bella uses it to rinse away the suds on her chest. Pushing her head into my shoulder, she arches her back, bringing her breasts further above the water, her rosy nipples dipping above and below the water line. My erection thickens as I twist the lever on the back to create pulsating blasts of water.

"Take it, Bella, you hold it," I speak into her hair. Without pause she takes the head, and I use my hands to rub, pull and tease her nipples. "Lower, Bella… go lower." She slides the head to her stomach.

Bella exposes her neck, and I suck a long line of wet flesh from her shoulder to her ear, pulling and pinching her nipples until her moans sound pained. I soften my touch and ask again, "Lower, baby, I want to watch… let me watch."

Finally, Bella submerges the showerhead deep into the water. I use my legs to widen hers. Her back arches further and I feel the movement of water against my thighs as I watch her arm move, circling over her sex. I wonder if I could see more if the lights were on. I'm growing to hate these candles.

My cock wants in on this, and frankly, so do I. Reaching between us, I grip the base and slowly pull my skin, rubbing the head against Bella's back. _Fuck, yes._ From over her shoulder I watch her rhythm and meet it with my own rough strokes.

"That's it Bella, keep going..." My breath is ragged; I'm already close.

"Wait…" _Wait?_ She suddenly stops and sits straight up. "Are you touching yourself?"

"Yeah, I want to come with you… let me come with you."

There is a surge of water, and suddenly Bella is sitting opposite me on the other side of the bathtub.

"I want to watch you, too," she says.

"You do?" _She does?_

"Yes… please," she breathes, her dark-chocolate eyes gazing into mine.

_Alright, Masen… make this good._ I drape one arm over the tub and flex the muscles in my arm and chest. I use the other to return to my stroking. I try to give her my best Ryan Gosling _GQ_ Cover look—I'm squinting, it's a sexy squint—I think. I give a little groan for added effect.

"Stop it," she laughs and splashes me. I shake the water from my face and hair. _Good, splash._ "You're faking it," she continues to laugh.

"Faking it?" I sound insulted.

"Yes. You don't look like that during hanky panky… you look… different… better… sexier."

"Better?" _I can't argue with this._

"Yes, better," Bella says in her sweet, flirtatious way.

"Here, let me show you how it's done," she says slinking further down into the bathtub with her showerhead, her knees in the air. _Bring it on._

"Mmm… ohhh… ooohhh… baby. Oh, baby."

I splash her back, and hard. Her stunned eyes spring open, bathwater dripping off of her face.

"Faker. You _never_ call me baby," I accuse.

"You're baby in my head, but I can't quite get it to roll off of my tongue," she mirrors my words from last week and my mouth drops in shock.

I grab her ankles and pull her across the tub, splashing water everywhere and saying, "You bad girl."

She's hysterically laughing as I pull her up to my thighs and begin tickling her.

"No… Edward… stop," she keeps laughing, but I don't let up. I grab both her wrists in one hand and continue my torture tickling of her waist. "Stop… oh, God… stop."

"Say you're sorry."

"So- sorry." I stop and let her catch her breath. I flash my hands, as a tickle threat, at her and she squeals again. "No… no… please."

"So, you're mocking me?" I narrow my eyes at her. My tone is filled with teasing and sarcasm and flirting and love.

"No… no… don't tickle me again…" she's still catching her breath, and sitting on me, her slippery nude body is sliding over mine. _Have we never sat like this?_

"It's true… what I said was true." Her voice lilts, "You _are_ my baby. I don't say it out loud, but you're my baby."

_I'm your baby? It's not very manly. Her baby? _

She takes my face in her hands, "You're my baby. Please be my baby." Bella pulls my face to hers, opens my lips with hers, caresses my tongue with hers, sucks my mouth with hers. It's the kind of kiss that says she owns me and I like it. _I'll be your baby._

Bella deepens the kiss and reaches down to my need under the water. She grips me the way I like… firm, long strokes, and muscles clench while everything else puddles. _But I want to watch… She wants to watch. _I pull away from our kiss_. _

"Bella, wait. I have an idea… Here, put your legs around me."

Bella clings to me like a limpet and I lift us out of the water giving a little grunt as we rise.

"Am I getting too heavy?"

"God, no."

I place her down on the floor and wrap a towel around her shoulders before grabbing one for myself. Quickly, I rub my hands over the fluffy white towel to dry her, warm her.

"What are we doing?" Excitement fills her voice.

"You'll see."

"Edward…"

"Patience, Bella…"

After I secure the towel around my waist, I drop to my knees and pat the water off of each leg.

"Edward…" Her face is splits in a grin and she starts to shift the weight between her knees, squirming with anticipation.

"Okay…" I rise, hold onto her shoulders and begin to walk her backwards. "Ready, Bella?"

"_Yes."_

In one motion, I turn her to the full-length mirror and whip her towel away.

"Let's watch."

I've never seen this expression on her face before. I think it's excitement… I put my arms around her and move her hair to give me access to her neck and shoulders. Showering her body with kisses, I feel her breath become deep, heavy. Each remaining drop of water becomes my destiny, my next kiss.

"This is my fantasy," I murmur against her skin, making my way down her shoulder blade.

"It is?" she whispers, her voice barely audible.

Bella says something else but I can't hear it. I keep touching my mouth to each drop, feeling one after another vanish under into my lips.

She speaks again.

"What's that?" I ask as I continue on my journey to the next drop.

"Blindfold me."

I peek my head up and lock eyes with her in the mirror.

_Blindfolded?_

Bella turns to me, her words rushed, "Yes… blindfold me. This is your fantasy… to watch, right? And, and, and mine… my fantasy is to, to be blindfolded. So… so we can have both fantasies at once."

"You don't want to watch?"

"Yes… um… but not right now. I will another time. I want to be b-blindfolded."

"Blindfolded?"

"P-P-Please, will you blindfold me?"

_Wake up, idiot, she's asked four times._

"Yeah, of course," Bella's grin widens and I start to laugh, running my fingers through my hair, "sorry, you just surprised me." A jolt of electricity shoots through me and I'm suddenly elated by this prospect. "Um… yeah, okay, well… we need a blindfold."

_Blindfold, blindfold, blindfold—where the fuck am I going to get a blindfold?_

"Stay here, Bella, I'll be right back."

I rush out of the bathroom and into my closet, frantically searching my clothes for a blindfold. _Blindfold, blindfold, blindfold—I don't own any blindfolds. Dear God, help me find a—sorry, not appropriate—never mind. Ties, yes, ties. _I quickly pull out each one. _Too thin, too thin, too thin… fuck fashion trends. _

Suddenly, Bella is behind me, wrapped in a towel. I grab more ties and hold each one up to her eyes.

"Too thin, too thin, too thin," she says after each try.

"Socks," I say and Bella follows me as I hurry to my chest of drawers. Somewhere along the way, I lose my towel. I'm flopping around, hunting through my sock drawer. _Real attractive, Edward_. Again, I hold each sock—in every variety I own—to Bella's eyes.

"Too short, too short, too narrow… is that one dirty?"

"How'd you get in here?" I run the sock to the hamper in the bathroom and when I return I see Bella heading for the main handkerchief drawer.

"Good call," I say as I join her.

"Wow, you have a lot of these," she says.

"I was about to order more."

"What, do you own stock in the company?" She asks as she lays one out on the top of the chest.

"Yes. A lot."

Bella flashes a quizzical look, but we have no time for this discussion. "Use two," I say and she makes two layers.

With shaky hands, Bella doubles them into a triangle and then carefully folds it into thirds. Watching her work meticulously, instead of scrunching the material together, makes me hard.

"Turn around," I say, she does—a quick measure for length and, "Okay, we're good." I grab her hand and we run back into the bathroom.

"Okay, we need some ground rules first…" I say as photos and articles flit through my mind and organize into a list. "I've read a lot about this. So, first rule, we need safe words. There are three…" Bella looks at me intently, nodding. _Yes, there will be a quiz on this._ "There's yellow, and yellow means… um… _Edward, I'm not really liking this too much and I think we should consider stopping_."

"Got it."

"And then there's red… and that's like… _Whoa, stop right there. I totally hate what's going on._" I am talking so fast, that I have no idea if I'm making sense, but she seems to be following.

"Got it."

"Good, okay so… green, yellow, and red…"

"Wait, what's green?"

"I don't know… um… it must mean, _Hey this is great, keep it up?_"

We shrug at the same time.

"Okay, got it… Edward, wait… Are you going to tie me up or spank me or gag me or something?"

"_God, no_… Wait, do you want me to?"

"_No_… wait… um… " it's only a slight pause, but it thrills and terrifies me, "no, not this time." _Thank God._ "Maybe never," she says apologetically.

"No problem… "

"Hold on… Edward, if you aren't doing those things, do we need safe words? Can't I just tell you what I like and don't like?"

"Oh. Yeah, good point." _More to discuss. _"Second rule, Bella… I don't think I should, you know, be inside of you. Not this time." _I hate saying this rule, but the thought of getting past Bella's internal wall while blindfolded is frightening._

"Okay…" she looks a little confused, "so, what are you going to do?"

"Um… touch you, make you feel good?" I shrug.

"Sounds good, I'm in."

"Okay, third rule… we need music." _Ah, FUCK! As soon as I say it, I want to kick myself. It will take me at least an hour to create a playlist for this._

"No, no, no… don't worry about it."

"No?"

"No, I just… I just…" Bella looks around, a bit bemused, then grabs my hands and takes a few deep breaths, slowing down both of us. "Talk to me… I only need your voice."

"Okay." I decide to ditch the rule about no talking… as well as all the others. I swallow and wet my lips, trying to gain composure. Leaning down, I brush my mouth over hers for a kiss, but stop and whisper, "Are you certain about this?"

"Yes," she breathes, squeezing my hands and then kissing me gently.

I straighten my posture and look down at my little Bella. Stretching the blindfold out before her, I look to her once more for assurance, and she gives me a small, comforting nod.

_This is it._

I turn her around by the shoulders and I watch in the mirror as I secure the blindfold.

"Too tight?"

"No," she says, and already her voice sounds as if it is falling away to a different place.

"Tomorrow we order you the finest silk blindfold in the world." _Must call Tabetha._

Carefully, I pull at the towel tucked under Bella's arm and slip it away from her body. As if it has become an automatic reaction, Bella covers her breasts and hips with her arms. _Huh, so modest… even now?_

I reach over to the wall and slide the dimmer switch until the room is fully illuminated.

Bella gasps, "What's that?"

"The lights."

"Oh."

"Can you see?"

"No, I heard." The switch is silent to my ears; her senses are heightened—exactly as the articles said.

I step to the side and look at her. My eyes shift from her flesh to her reflection. _When? When did she get so thin? Has she always been…? I don't remember her being so…? Remember? But I see her every night. There's something about a bathroom—nude in a bathroom. When was that? _

I begin to take inventory of her body. Her hips bones jutting out… translucent skin stretched over her ribcage… even on her exhale, I can count each rib—and I do … her collarbone… I'm stunned...

"Edward, what are you doing?" Bella's voice is laced with anxiety.

"I'm… I'm looking at you."

"Oh."

"You're… stunning."

"Oh." A shy smile eases her worried face. "Can you hold me?'

"Yeah, yeah, of course." I break out of my revere and slide my arms under Bella's, holding her across her breasts and hips. _She's cold, too cold._ Reaching over to the wall, I flip the switch for the heat lamps. Bella startles at the sound.

"It's the heat lamps. I want to warm you."

"Oh."

I don't know how long I hold her like this, but I feel and see her body transform in my arms: from nervous breaths and tight muscles, to steady inhales and a relaxed face, to parted lips and loose limbs.

"You're doing so well, Isabella." I'm not even sure what I mean, but it feels like the right thing to say. There's no response—she's completely relaxed.

Taking one of her hands in mine, I rest it on the vanity next to us, her other arm drops to the side, and I step away. I walk backward, keeping my eyes on Bella until I reach my cabinet, open the door and hunt through bottles of _GQ's_ top rated toiletries, until I find what I'm looking for, but never thought I'd have the chance to use. Opening the bottle, I take a whiff—not rancid—and hope Bella doesn't have a nut allergy.

I walk back to her, pouring oil into my hands.

She speaks for the first time, still quiet, "Are you baking me almond cookies?"

"Almond oil," my voice sounds different, deeper, more assured.

I move her lush hair away and find my destiny—the place I first yearned to touch her. Starting with one finger at the nape of her neck, I begin my slow journey down her spine, sliding over each vertebra, and ghosting over the meeting of her cheeks. She does not flinch.

In amazement, I stare at the pink line that remains from my touch. _Will she turn pink everywhere?_ On my knees, behind her, I lubricate my hands again and press them onto her left foot. I stroke my hands over her ankle… calf… knee… thigh… stopping inches before her sex: one leg crimson, the other, alabaster. I continue with the second leg, but when I reach her upper thigh, a soft cry falls from Bella's lips.

Holding her hips, I blow between her legs and she whimpers.

"Patience, Isabella," I say before I plant a kiss on the small of her back and stand.

I begin to massage her neck and shoulders, letting the sweet, earthy scent of almond oil fill the room. And the whole time, I stare; now fully realizing the gift of the blindfold. I can study her body, note reactions to my touch, scrutinize each breath and flush—ogle without insecurity. It is a seminar in Bella.

I massage her left arm and place her hand on top of her head. Bella doesn't move. The right arm, now pink from my touch, joins the first. Moving in front of her, I take in this erotic image—blindfolded, legs, arms, and lips parted for me.

_An alarm sounds in my head—this is wicked, dark, ungodly. This isn't me. I close my eyes and bury the thought. Keith Richards wants to keep playing, and I let him. _

Now my own body demands attention. Leaning against the wall, I take my warm, throbbing flesh into my oiled hands and stroke myself as I look at her. Before my eyes, her breasts swell, nipples harden, bottom lip reddens and thighs flush pink. I tighten my grip and speed my strokes… I'm rising… close… maybe I'll come right here.

"_Kiss me_," Bella suddenly cries a desperate plea.

Immediately, I go to her, holding her face in my hands, and plunge my tongue deep into her mouth, controlling her jaw with my hands and tongue. Bella keeps her hands above her head and moans in my mouth; she allows me to take and to give.

_This is for her; take care of her. _I remind myself, as I pull away.

"Are you okay?" I ask with her face in my hands.

"Yes," she rasps.

I walk behind her again, feeling ashamed, and murmuring, "So good, Isabella… you're doing so good."

"Don't leave again." Remnants of panic ring in her voice.

"I won't. I'm right here."

I slide one hand from her collarbone, dipping between her breasts, to her stomach. I alternate with the other hand, in long smooth, circular strokes. Caressing her belly, under her arms, above and below her breasts, I touch her everywhere she almost needs, until her body begins to quiver.

"Where do you want me to touch you, Isabella?"

"My breasts… _please_." _Always polite._ I knead her breasts and tug at her nipples, watching her breath become ragged until she cries out.

"Do you want to come, Isabella?"

"Yes," she mewls.

"Yes what?"

"Yes… _please_."

_Fuck, this is hot._

As I slide my cock between her legs, she brings her feet together, tightening the hold. I don't know if this is something I've read before or if it's my original idea—either way, it's genius.

I begin to move between her slick folds, and just when I'm worried it's not enough friction for her, I observe her husky breath and changing body.

I watch myself in the mirror, my head repeatedly poking out from between her legs. For a moment, I'm reminded of Alice's stuffed turtle and turn my attention back to Bella.

Reaching up, I thread her fingers in mine, and bring them to the apex of her thighs. Our fingers graze my cock as I continue to move.

"Tell me you want to come, Isabella."

"_Please let me come_."

From behind the blindfold, I see her anguished face. I slide our fingers between her folds, over her clitoris, and Bella's knees buckle as she climaxes. Wrapping my arms around her, I hold her up and continue to ride out her orgasm until her body stops jerking and stills.

I reach over for a washcloth and hold it in front of us as I thrust three more times. Bella's hand covers mine; I shudder and I come forcefully, but silently, filling the cloth with hot streams of my fluid.

I place the washcloth down. For a moment, I stand there holding Bella, catching my breath, and trying to process.

"Are you okay?" I finally ask.

"Yes," she sounds surprised by this fact.

I reach for her blindfold, but, "No…" she stops me, "bed."

Though I'm not sure if I'm strong enough to do so, I sweep her legs, steady myself, and carry her to bed.

"T-shirt," she says, when I reach for the blindfold again.

I put her grey Forks High School t-shirt over her head and, after she slips her arms through the holes, she reaches for the blindfold.

"May I?" I interrupt her.

"Yes."

I take the blindfold off and see her blink and adjust to the light.

"Hi," I say.

"Hi"

"I missed your eyes." I give her an innocent kiss and sweep her hair from her face. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah… I'm… great." _Great?_ _Oh, thank God. _My body slacks with relief.

"Oh, Bella, I'm so glad." Her grin widens and I feel a new surge of energy.

"You're sure, that was okay?" Too excited to sit, I stand, elated by the success. I pull on my boxers.

"Yes, Edward…" she shakes her head as if she cannot believe it herself, "it was better than I imagined."

"_Better?_ Better than your fantasy?"

Bella gives a little laugh, "Yes, better than my fantasy."

I'm now dancing around the room, on the balls of my feet, completely overjoyed. "Oh, Bella, baby. You should have seen yourself—God, you're gorgeous. Oh, man… so, you'd do that again?"

"Um… yeah… I think so."

"Oh, _yes_… that's awesome… it will be better next time, I promise… Holy shit, you should have seen yourself—so sexy. Oh, and when I touched you… you got all pink…" _She needs to see this._ "You need to see this," I grab her hand and try to pull her out of bed, towards the mirror.

"No, Edward, not tonight."

"_Aww_, come on… you're going to love this…"

"Please, Edward… I'm tired…"

I tug again a little harder; she'll see, it will be worth it.

"Come on, Bella, one look."

"_No!"_ Bella snaps and yanks her hand away. _What the fuck?_ Her eyes blaze with rage for only a second before I lose her and she curls away from me on the bed. _What just happened? What is happening?_

"Bella?"

She doesn't respond. I look around the room as if there will be some clue, some answer to this mystery. Silence roars in my ears as pieces to a puzzle I did not know existed fall into place:

I tried to open her dress out in the woods—tears

Her reaction to the full-faced photograph

Never any lights… always half covered… in and out of the bath alone… _I never see her nude_

_Oh, fuck._

This isn't simple modesty…

_The blindfold_

Oh, no. _No. No. No._

I clamber onto the bed and trying to turn her towards me. "Bella… Isabella… _please_." I don't know what to say, "Please let's talk about this."

"No. Edward, not tonight… please, let's go to bed." She pulls away. Her voice is distant, matter-of-fact.

_She wore the blindfold for me_. I don't understand… I want to understand.

"Bella…" I try to calm the panic in my voice, as I cling to her upper arm. "Bella I want to talk now. I think we should talk now."

_Why won't you talk to me? I want to fix this. _

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Yes. Yes, there is… "

Bella quickly crawls out of her side of the bed and says under her breath, "I have to go to the bathroom."

She starts for the stairs. _Why downstairs?_ _Oh, no._ I jump out of bed and grab her wrist before she makes it to the second step. "There's a bathroom up here, Bella."

She freezes, still turned away from me.

"I… I need water," her voice, strangled, distressed. She takes more steps, our arms are outstretched, but I won't let go.

"Isabella, wait…"

"_Oh, God_."

She clasps her free hand to her mouth and hunches over, pulling at my hand. I grab the banister; if I let her go she'll fall… if I pull, she'll fall. She's teetering on her toes, headfirst, unbalanced.

"_Sit._"

Our arms are like a tether rope, holding her as she hovers there. Her body swings until her shoulder meets the wall and she slides down to a step.

In a second, I'm there. "You're okay. I got ya."

Her arm, now free, wraps around her stomach. I pick up her shaking body, carry her to the edge of the bed, and kneel in front of her. I can't see her face with the curtain of hair surrounding it.

"Breathe through your nose." Her hand still covers her mouth. Her inhale stutters as she tries to slow her breathing, stop herself from vomiting. "Think of something else… think of something nice… picture something nice." I'm afraid to touch her; I don't want to make this worse, but she's quivering so forcefully, I can see it. I can see the vibrations in her hair, her t-shirt. I hold onto to her bare, shaking knees, hoping to absorb the vibrations.

"Bella, it's passing. You're okay… It's almost done. Keep breathing."

She nods, takes her hand away from her mouth and clutches the comforter on either side of her. Her breathing slows, but her shaking does not.

"See that. You're picturing something nice… are you picturing something nice…? Are you going to your happy place, Bella?" I try to peek up and see her face. "Do you have a happy place?"

"No."

_My wounded angel._

"Yes you do. Right here, right here is your happy place." I pull her weary body off the bed and into my arms; she curls willingly into my lap. Gently, I rock her and coo in her ear, "This is your happy place."

_Father in Heaven, what do I say? What do I do? _My own adrenaline from the near fall fades and I no longer know if it is Bella's or my own shaking that I feel.

"Tell me what you need, Bella. Can you tell me?" _Please. _"I just want to look at you. I just want to see your pretty face." I tilt her chin up to me and find her eyes squeezed shut, her anguished expression. My voice, barely a whisper, "_Open your eyes_."

Her face further contorts as she brings herself to blink her eyes open. As soon as she does, her lids brim with tears and she begins to sob.

"Okay, Bella. You're alright." I press her head back into my body and feel her hot tears on my naked chest. "Tell me what you need."

"I… I… need Alice."

_It's not about you, Edward._ I push away my injured ego and focus back on Bella. _It's too late to call, isn't it? _

"I know. I know, baby. Do you… do you want me to call her?"

Bella roughly shakes her head and I feel a concoction of relief and fear.

"Okay, we don't have Alice. I'm all you have right now. Will you talk to me? _Please talk to me._"

Her fierce eyes look up at me and she grabs the flesh of my neck and shoulders, "I'm b- b- begging you. I d-d-don't w-w-want to t-talk about it."

_And who am I to force her?_

"Okay, okay. You don't have to talk about it. We're done talking about it."

As we rock there, sitting on the bedroom floor, Bella's sobs quell, but her tears continue to flow. _She needs this, crying is good, _I remind myself. But really, when she cries, a piece of my heart dies.

I think back to a conversation with Alice after Bella retreated to Forks:

"_Why was she with him?"_

"_Edward, I spent a lot of time over the years trying to answer that question. I think she finally agreed to date him when her self esteem was at an all time low. He spent years following her around like a puppy. But once he had her… something changed. She wasn't a person; she was a prize he won. I think Mike convinced Bella that he was the only one who would ever want her."_

"_How would he do that? How could she believe him?"_

"_I have my theories." _

I have my own theories.

"Bella." She looks up at me with tear-streaked cheeks, but no new tears. "Do you feel a little better?"

She nods and I carefully wipe her tears with my thumbs. As long as she lets me, I'd rather my skin, not handkerchiefs, absorb her tears.

"Do you trust me, Bella?" It takes her some time, but she nods, nearly imperceptibly.

"Good, because I want to show you something. Will you let me show you something?"

I barely give her enough time to consider my request, and I'm bringing both of us up to standing. "I want to… I want to show you my Bella Swan." I hold her hand. We just stand there for a few minutes as I rub my thumb over her knuckles.

"Trust me."

She is clearly frightened, but nods. The responsibility of holding her trust feels heavy, but I'm able. I'm strong enough.

Still holding hands, I lead her to the large mirror over the chest of drawers, and stand behind her. I watch her eyes dart around the mirror, searching for a comfortable place to look.

"Hi," I say, and her eyes snap to mine through the glass.

"Hi," she quietly says and returns my shy smile.

"Bella, look at your eyes for a minute. What do you see there? Can you describe your eyes for me?"

"Red… puffy…"

"Don't do that. Tell me about your eyes."

Bella raises her shoulders to shrug, but doesn't let them rest back down. "I have brown eyes." She says this like she's coming to terms with a genetic disorder. _Keep it light, Edward, keep it light._

"Mmm. Yes, brown eyes… _chocolate_ brown eyes. Well, at least right now they're chocolate, but there are different shades at different times."

"Different shades?" Her shoulders rest back down.

"Yeah. Didn't you know? Sometimes… when we're outside, they get really light, like caramel…"

"Really?"

It's a new discovery. She never noticed… no one ever told her; he never told her.

"Uh-huh… and when you look at me in _that way_…"

"In what way?"

"That way you look at me when we're making love… your eyes turn to dark chocolate…" I bend down and whisper in her ear, "And I love dark chocolate."

Bella dips her head, shy, but looks up at me through her long lashes. _I think I have her. I think she's with me. _

"And look at that face. My God, that face. Your skin… so soft, so creamy…"

"My bruise," she cuts me off and turns her face, presenting the fading yellow shadow.

"What bruise?" Her eyes come back to mine. "I don't see any bruise."

Her eyes return to her reflection.

"And, just so you know… I could suck on that bottom lip all day. I _dream_ about that bottom lip."

Closing her eyes, she points to her bottom lip and painfully whispers, "My scar."

"It's fading, Bella. Your scar is fading."

"No, no… it's going to stay forever, I know it." _I'm not used to this. She works so hard to hide her insecurities. _

"And so what if it does, Bella? It will be the prettiest scar the Earth has ever seen because it's _your_ scar. Yours, Bella. Do you understand me?"

She pauses, blinking at me. I almost have her again. Quickly, I shove both hands in her hair and push her locks around her face.

"And this… only this beautiful head of hair is worthy to frame your face." _Why can't you see it?_ I bury my head into her hair and inhale through my nose, cleansing myself. "Fuck, you smell good."

Releasing her hair, I show two fingers in the mirror. "And this, wait until you see this… I just discovered this..."

"What?"

I lightly drag my two fingers along the length of her collarbone, leaving two perfect pink lines showing through the opening of her t-shirt. Bella squints and leans into the mirror before leaning back again to get a better view. Her jaw drops and her eyes meet mine.

"I know, Bella… it's amazing, isn't it? Your blood comes to the surface whenever… wherever I touch you." I raise her left arm and skate one finger over the ivory flesh of the inside, leaving my pink mark. "It's like I can paint on you."

"My God," she breathes, staring in awe.

"Have you even seen anything like it, Bella?" I continue to paint on her other arm.

"No."

I brush the back of my hand over her cheek and watch it turn deep pink, obscuring the yellow.

"It's like… it's like your blood sings to me."

I drag one finger from behind her ear to her sternum and the long, curved red line remains.

"Only for me, Bella…? Tell me it's only for me."

"Only for you."

"And let me show you…" I reach for the hem of her shirt.

"_No!"_ Bella yanks down the hem of her shirt and my hands fly up, palms facing the mirror.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Her chest caves and muscles tense. She is a wild animal protecting her wound, pulling her shirt taut to her thighs.

I pause for a second, but I am on a fast track to fury fueled by unresolved vengeance. I don't know how, but he did this to her—I know it—and there is nothing, _nothing_ I can do to hurt him. _I am sorry, Lord, but I am incapable of forgiveness. Burn in hell, you motherfucker._

"You know what, Bella…?" There is no concealing the anger in my tone. "Right now, your body looks…" _fragile? thin? injured?_ each word a judgment, "different… different from what it used to, and I'll tell you why…"

I thread one arm under hers and pull her roughly into me.

"…It is because of this," I say, splaying my other hand over her chest, feeling her thin skin and bones, "your heart. Your heart is so big and open and beautiful…" I try to control my voice, but seeing her tear-filled eyes meet mine in the mirror only intensifies my ache.

"And he… he crushed it. He did not take care of this heart. Did he, Bella?"

"No." Her voice is so small.

"When did you forget how beautiful you are?"

Her lashes flutter over wet eyes, but she doesn't respond.

"He never told you, did he?"

"No."

"He said mean things to you, didn't he?"

'Yes,' there is no sound, only the movement of her mouth.

I press her body, her heart, firmly to mine with my hand and speak in slow, certain terms, "_I_ will take care of this heart. _I_ will protect this heart. Trust me."

It is a command, not a question, yet I wait for her response; it doesn't come. I turn her to me and dig my hands into her hair, lifting her face to mine. "I won't hurt you, Bella. With God as my witness, I won't hurt you. Trust me." My fingers press into her scalp and I feel my own hair stand on end, as I fear the inability to fulfill my commitment.

As her brow creases, she says with little breath, "I trust you, Edward. I trust you." I press my lips to her forehead and say my silent prayer: _Dear Lord, protect her from my mistakes. Strengthen me; empower me to keep my promise._

"You're so beautiful, Bella… so beautiful," I mummer against her skin. Gently, I turn her back to the mirror, and see the imprint of my hand remaining on her flesh.

Bella traces my mark with her fingertips and lets her hand fall the front of her shirt. Shaking her head, and fighting for a smile she says, "I used to have boobs."

I wrap my arms around her middle and Bella reaches behind us and holds the back of my thighs.

"You still have boobs, Bella." Raising my arms, still crossed, I cradle each soft breast in my hands. "I love your boobs. At any size… I love your boobs."

"Can you hold me for a minute?"

"Like this…? Hold you like this?" I feel her thumbs make small circles against my thighs.

"Yes… like this."

I watch us in the mirror, just breathing. And Bella is watching me now. Relaxing my jaw and softening my face, I will my frustration and anger to lift. I don't want to ruin this picture… this exquisite picture of my love and me.

"_You're_ beautiful," she says softly, warmly.

Strangely, for the first time in my life, with Bella in my arms I feel I might be.

Bella's head falls back to my shoulder, exposing her elegant neck. I tilt my head and suck the skin where her neck meets her shoulder. Her thumbs circle deeper, harder into my thighs and I match the rhythm, gently brushing my own thumbs over her nipples.

The flesh in my mouth grows warm and salty with her sweet sweat. I lift her breasts together and roll her stiff peaks in between my fingers and thumbs. I feel her heart thunder against my chest.

My thighs tingle and I swell against her body.

In a voice deeper than my own I say into her neck, "I wish you could see yourself come. You are glorious when you come."

Bella releases her hold and rests her forearms on the dresser.

"Show me."

_Oh, God._ My stomach coils and my erection hardens. I place my hand on the small of her back. "Are you sure?"

Her eyes stay fixed on her own, only inches from the glass as she says, "Yes," as if she's answering her own silent question.

I step away and pull off my boxers. Lifting her hips, I place her farther back, straightening her body. My arousal mixes with insecurity. _A new position..._ _I've never done this before. Of course I haven't… I haven't done anything before, why would this be any different? Big night._

I glide my finger over her slit and slide it into the hot opening of her sex. She's so ready. "Open your legs a little more."

She does, but her eyes don't leave the mirror.

I say a silent prayer... _please no pain_… and I slide into her… inch by blessed inch without resistance. _She trusts me._ _Dear God._ Both of our heads drop as we share a collective moan.

"Bella… do you… can you…"

"Yes, I feel it…"

I begin to rock into her with shallow, gentle, slow movements. I relish how her body pulls me into her… it's a new sensation. I look down and watch myself slide in and out of her… alternating between warm liquid and cool air. I stare at my erection coated in her come disappear inside of her, over and over again.

Bella moans and I look back up to see her head drop.

"Tell me how it feels, Bella…"

"I want… I want to feel all of you…"

I hold her hips and fight against my aching need for speed; slowly, I slide into her… feeling her stretch and clench around me. When I think I can't go any further, I do, thrusting the last inches of myself until my hips meet her backside.

Bella cries out. I want to see her. I run my fingers along her scalp, curl my fist, and, as gently as I can, lift her head. "Watch. Look… look at your eyes… those eyes are for me. Fucking beautiful."

"Beautiful," she whispers back, looking at me. I release her hair, but she continues to watch.

"_Oh, God…"_ I groan and start to experiment with each stoke… tilting my hips down and feeling her back wall… grinding in circles… lifting my pelvis and diving into her with short shallow…

"_Augh_…" Bella cries, "right there… right there…" _Did I find the ridge?_ I concentrate on hitting the spot in short, quick strokes. I feel my legs weaken as my own need for something else begins to grow. I lift the back of Bella's shirt and lick the sweat off her spine. Looking up, I see her breasts sway with each movement—her dark eyes glancing between us.

"Bella… I need to…" _Oh, God_. My stomach clenches at the words that waver on my lips… "I want to… " _be rough, thrust hard._ "I need to… _ungh_…" muscles in my thighs quiver with my restraint.

Bella lays her body flat on the dresser; her hands stretch out and press against the mirror. "Take me," she whimpers and I nearly climax at her words.

I place one firm hand on her back and one on her hip. Pulling out nearly every inch of myself, I pause for a split second and thrust everything into her, meeting my hips with hers. We both cry out as bottles and loose change and, who the fuck knows what else is on this dresser, crash around us.

I wait… hold… "Bella…?"

"Again."

_Thank you._

Slowly, I slide out of her and slam back in, feeling my skin slap against skin. And I don't stop—slow then fast… skin meets skin in steady, powerful movements. I look down to see her ass redden by my force. I want to drive the belief of her beauty into her until she owns it for herself.

"Faster… please…"

And I feel that everything that ties me to this Earth has been cut free. I reach over her and grip her shoulders, holding her steady as I begin my assault. I pump into her quick and hard, feeling her walls pull at my cock. I'm rising… my fingers, my toes, all of me comes alive as sweat pours off my face.

I watch the obscene film play out in front of me and I'm glad Bella isn't watching. I bite my lip and try to stifle my mangled cries and double my efforts to send her over the edge. Her body hardens…

"Oh, God… I'm gonna come… _too hard_," her voice is high pitched, frightened.

"I got ya…" I slide my arms between her sweaty body and the polished wood. "I have you… Bella, let it go."

"_No_… _too much… too_…"

"Come on, Bella." I continue to drive into her; I want her orgasm more than I want my own. I struggle to hold onto my release so I can be strong enough to carry Bella through hers.

I lift her body and slip one hand towards her sex. With slight contact, she explodes. Bella's back bows and slams into my chest… arches… and slams again. Her entire body flails as she convulses; I use all my strength to hold her. There is a ferocious tightening around my cock and then I feel her body pushing me out.

I slam back into her and she cries out. A flush of hot liquid hits my pelvis… my balls… my thighs. I can take no more. Holding Bella, I drop to my knees and thrust up into her once more, finding my release and losing myself… I roar her name as I pulse my seed into her.

I am dripping and numb and tingling and happy… and Bella is… silent… lassitude….

"Bella…?" Her folded body is still. "Breath, Bella."

Birdlike ribs expand against my body and she exhales a mournful keen. It is the sound of slipping off the edge. I know that sound. I've made that sound.

I feel her sobs from the inside.

My heart shrivels. There are no words.

Carefully, I lift her as she reaches for the bed a few feet away.

I mean to mutter something soothing, but I don't know if I do. She is inconsolable. I'm bewildered. I steady her as she crawls into bed and seeks, in vain, to find the corner of the sheet.

I stand and pull the covers over her. I put on my boxers, looking down at my shattered woman, and search for something to say. _Some words, Lord, please._

"T-T-Ten…ten…" she manages between the sobs.

"Ten what, Bella?"

"M-minutes…"

I look at the clock, 11:27, _what happens in ten minutes?_

"I… I n-n-need to… cry… f-for ten… f-f-fifteen mi-mi-minutes." Bella reaches for the nightstand drawer and retrieves a fresh handkerchief. I should have done that for her. _What am I doing?_ Finally, I clear away the fog and stop observing her devastation.

I clamber into bed behind her, prop myself up on my elbow, and pull her into me.

"F-F-Fifteen…"

"_Shhh._ You can cry as long as you want, no time limits."

Bella holds the handkerchief over her eyes and I know this is her cue for embarrassment.

"Are you… why are you… " _Fuck. Where are my words?_

"I'm so… em-em-embarrassed… I'm s-s-sorry."

"_What?_ You're sorry? What the fu- What are you sorry for?"

"I… I… I…" She's spinning out of control.

"Slow down, Bella. Let's take a minute to breathe. I want you to breathe with me."

I give slight pressure to her abdomen and feel her exhale. I loosen my hold and Bella gulps a belly full of air, sending her into a fit coughing, sobbing, and gasping.

"_Slow_… Breathe _with_ me, Isabella. Inhale… exhale…"

After a minute, the tears continue to flow, but her breathing steadies.

"There you go, little one, you're alright."

"I… I… don't know what happened. I… lost control… and, and, and…"

"Slow," I say, and it sounds like a warning.

Bella swallows and takes a breath before continuing, "I'm s-s-sorry for what I did."

"For what you did…? You mean the way you… you orgasmed?"

Bella gives a small nod and weeps harder, burying her head in the handkerchief. Oh, damn it.

"Bella, what you did was… special. I think it's a special way some women can orgasm. It's just another way that you're you… and unique… and wonderful… and special." _I sound like an idiot._

"I think I p-p-peed on you."

"Oh, Bella," I turn her around and pull her into my chest. "No you didn't. You came… like… hard, that's all." _Eloquent, Edward, really eloquent_. "I've read all about it. I have some articles downstairs. Do you want to read them?"

"No…" Bella sniffles, "maybe." I stroke the top of her head as she buries herself in my chest. _So much crying tonight… we need more laughing._

"If you peed on me, do you think you'd still be in this bed right now?" She's quiet. Too soon? "I'm sorry… bad attempt at humor."

I try another approach, "Do you want me to get you a subscription to _Cosmopolitan_? I realized with the showerhead thing I'm only getting half of the picture." _Bella is falling apart and I'm making pee jokes and talking about subscriptions to Cosmo. Yes, I would make a great therapist. _

"N-no… thank you."

"Do you want to… maybe we should get some books? We can find books and read them together. We'll buy them online so no one sees us at Borders. Would you like that?"

Bella nods and I kiss the top of her head.

"Edward… I was s-s-scared."

She wanted me to stop; I asked her to trust me.

"I should have stopped… I… I'm the one who should be sorry."

"It was t-t-too late… you couldn't."

Maybe I could have. If I were a man, an experienced man instead of a boy, maybe I could have.

"Bella, I kept going because I… I don't know… I don't want you to be afraid to let go, to feel good. But I want you to feel safe with me. If you don't want to have sex ever again, that would be okay." _And it would, because as good as it felt, this whole night scared me, too._

"No. I guess it did feel good. And I like making… having sex with you. It makes me forget everything."

"I know what you mean. It makes me forget, too. It's the ultimate distraction," I say more to myself than to her.

Bella lifts her head, gazing at me. Thankfully, she doesn't ask, but stretches up to kiss the side of my mouth. I return her gaze and stroke her cheek, watching her eyes fill with tears again.

I place my fingers under her chin. "This isn't only about making love, is it, Bella?"

She closes her eyes and more tears fall.

"Overwhelmed?" I ask.

She nods. "S-S-So overwhelmed."

"Mike?"

Her weeping becomes audible again. Bella turns away from me, but slides back until she is against my chest again.

"Bella, is that why you want to talk to Alice? Because you need to talk about Mike?"

I simply hold her while she cries. _I'm sorry you're hurting, Bella._

"You… you shouldn't have to hear about him."

The only thing worse than hearing about Mike Newton, is hearing Bella cry.

"Bella, let's play our game… remember our game from the hotel? Tell me everything that's on your mind, no filtering."

She sniffles, "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay… um… he was sort of mean."

"Mean, how?"

"I wasn't pretty enough."

"He said that?"

"I was too… chunky."

"He was wrong."

"And now I'm t-t-t-too skinny… and Al-Al-Alice… and R-Rose…"

"Slow."

Bella takes a shuddering breath.

"They're the p-p-pretty ones. And I'm the nice one."

"You're nice _and_ pretty."

"And I let him be mean to me."

"Why?"

"I don't know… and L-L-Lauren… Lauren is so pretty and he told me that… he said she was so p-p-pretty…"

_Enough._

"Fuck Lauren Mallory, she's a skanky whore. She has nothing on you, Isabella, _nothing _and never will. And I'll tell you another thing, if Mike were alive, I'd fucking kill him. I'd kill him with my bare hands." _I'm going to make a great minister._

Bella twists to look up at me, "You sound exactly like Alice."

"Yeah? Good. Maybe I should channel her more often."

Bella's bites her lip and I know there's something else she wants to say.

"No filtering, Bella."

"I don't understand… you're patient, and kind, and protective… I don't… I don't deserve you."

"Deserve me? Ah, fuck, Bella. Can't you see that I'm head over heels? I'm the undeserving one. You are the… the coolest thing that's happened to me in years." _Coolest thing that's happened to me in years? Brilliant. _

Bella turns fully towards me, folding her hands to under her chin, and looking up at me for a long time. Her tears have stopped.

"You're the coolest thing that's happened to me, too, Edward." she says softly, but then her brows knit together with sadness. She speaks so quietly, it is difficult to hear, "Edward, I get scared when I go to sleep."

"Nightmares?" My tenor matches hers.

Bella shakes her head. "I'm frightened you'll be gone when I wake—that you aren't real. I'm scared that I'm going to wake up and be married… or I got hurt in the accident…" Bella's eyes scan the room, "all this is a hallucination and I'm really dying in a limo somewhere… maybe I'm dead. It's not the nightmares I fear the most, it's this dream."

All my air escapes me.

"This is real, Isabella. I'm real… and so, so flawed. But if I'm wrong—if you open your eyes and you're in someplace strange—look around, because I'll be there. I'm not going anywhere without you, Isabella."

Bella wraps her arms around my neck and presses her body into mine. We don't speak, she doesn't cry, we simply press the full length of our bodies against one another. After a minute, Bella peels herself away and sits up on the edge of the bed. "I need to get cleaned up," she whispers and stands.

"Wait," I say, sitting on the edge of the bed, offering my hands. She gives me her hands… I stare at my feet, unable to look at her as I ask, "May I come with you? May I wash you?"

"No," she whispers. "I need a minute alone."

"Are you… are you going to be sick?"

"No."

"Do you think… I'm sorry to ask this, but… do you think there is a part of you that doesn't want to eat… that wants you to get sick?"

"No." So quiet, but assured.

"If you… if you think there is, will you tell me?"

"Yes."

I nod, still unable to look at her, my unshed tears building pressure in my eyes.

"You know that, when I want you to eat, it's not because I want this…" I pull her to me as I lean in and kiss her belly through her t-shirt, "to be any different. I don't care about your size or shape. You're pretty, always."

"I needed to hear you say that."

I nod and continue, "And you should know…" I clear my throat and aim to steady my voice, "when I first laid eyes on you in the hospital… I didn't see your face or body. I saw your soul, Isabella." I lay my hand over her center. "This is only a shell. A beautiful shell that I adore, but only a shell."

Bella lifts my chin, looks into my heart and says, "Thank you." She bends down, kisses me softly, and whispers, "Back in a minute."

I watch Bella retreat into the bathroom and glance at the clock. 11:42—exactly fifteen minutes of crying.

* * *

A/N:

The next chapter takes place on Saturday, one day before Carlisle's deadline. Wear your seat belts.

Although Bella's painful sex might be psychological, there are of plenty physiological reasons for painful intercourse—your gynecologist is your friend.

If you are interested, I've written an account of my WFE premier experience under the story title, "Evian for Animals."

And last, my pimp wanted me to tell you nominations for the Avantgarde Awards are now open. www (dot) avantgardeawards (dot) com. These awards are aimed to support those of us who are writing fanfic for the first time: kisbydog, phoenix fan 1, writingbabe … so many good, new writers. Share the love.

And oh, reviews are better than dark chocolate and I love dark chocolate.

Regards,

Liz x


	14. Silence

A/N

Thank you for all of the reviews, they keep me sane.

I am enabling anonymous reviews so that those of you without an FFn account can also review. I hope no one gets mean… I'm sensitive.

Huge gratitude to: Sunshine, Orangeapeal, and Chele681, yes, Chele681 for pre-reading this chapter.

Thank you to Robsjenn for your research.

As always, thanks to PaintedTeacherLady, my beta.

Seat belts fastened? Let's see how they are doing…

* * *

Chapter Fourteen

Silence

"That's it, Bella… _yes_… faster, baby…"

Bella is riding me on the couch.

I hold onto her hips, but she is in control.

Quick… rough… her t-shirtless body bouncing in front of me—on me.

I feel her tensing around me, perfectly. She begins to orgasm and I thrust up into her and climax. Pressing her body into mine, I feel her…

Oh, no.

"No, no, no, Bella. Please don't cry…"

.

I wake with a jolt—another dream.

_Bella…? _I hear the shower running._ Thank God. _

Quickly, I strip off the bed linens and my boxers—both wet with my come, still warm.

For the past few nights, the routine has changed. Evenings are filled with soft caresses, nights are filled with wet dreams, and mornings are filled with shame.

I pull on clean underwear, gather the laundry, and head downstairs.

Jasper's words from the hotel come to mind:

'_Once you've dined on forbidden fruit, it's hard to push yourself away from the table._'

_Bastard._

I should probably call him; I could use some guidance:

_Jasper, teach me about sex._

_Well, Edward, what would you like to know?_

_When you have wild sex that results in your girlfriend hysterically crying about her emotionally abusive dead husband, what do you do?_

_You stop having sex, Edward._

_Yep, that's what I thought. _

My life isn't funny, it is ridiculous—an exercise in hypocrisy.

I load the linens and my boxers in the washing machine, start the cycle, and let the running, warm water rinse my hands.

Showerheads, a blindfold, mirrors—no wonder she broke down. _What was I thinking?_ _Bella is not a new toy, Edward; she's the woman you love._ We should have gotten off in the bathtub, kissed goodnight, and gone to bed.

I decide to take a shower in the downstairs bathroom. I need some private time.

~0~

Bella fidgets nervously as we walk from the car to The Volunteer Park Café in silence. I practice my three sentences again:

_Bella, my parents died in a break-in ten years ago.  
I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.  
I hope you will forgive me. _

She'll ask questions, but I'm used to the questions—everyone asks the same ones.

Bella breaks the silence, "Edward, I'm going to need you on my side today."

"When am I not on your side?"

"I'm sorry, that came out wrong." Bella grabs my hand and we continue our walk. "I mean Charlie and Sue, well really Charlie, needs to believe I'm doing okay."

"Aren't you doing okay?"

"Yes, of course… _gosh_… You see, this is what I mean. I'm going to say something stupid and Charlie's going to throw me into his car and take me back to Forks."

I pull Bella to a stop a few doors down from the restaurant.

"Bella, calm down. You are a bright, mature woman who can take care of herself. If anyone knows that, it's your father." Nothing makes her happier than my articulation of her strength, but her smile doesn't come. Bella tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ear; she is nodding, but pensive.

"And are we okay?" she asks, meeting my eyes.

"What? Yes, of course. Why would you ask that?" I ask, as if I don't know.

Bella presses her lips between her teeth and shrugs, evading my eyes.

_Damn it. _

I pull her into my chest and kiss the top of her head. "Sorry, Bella. I've been… sort of… not myself the last few days." Bella slides her arms around my waist andholds me firmly to her. "I was thinking about having a date night tonight. Let me take you someplace nice."

Her only response is to tighten her grip. Knowing what she needs, I sway her silently for a few moments. Maybe this is what I need. "Would you like that, Bella? Should we go out on a date tonight?"

Bella hums into my chest. "Date yes… go out, no."

"You got it." Bella lifts her head and I kiss her soft, full lips.

Stepping away, she asks, "Okay, how do I look?"

Bella took over an hour to get ready this morning. Wearing a fluffy pink sweater, Alice's high heel boots, and letting her long hair flow, she's obviously trying to make an impression on Charlie. I should have said something sooner.

"Pretty," I say, giving her another brief kiss. I take her hand again and begin to walk.

"Always?"

"Always."

~0~

"That was a good BLT." Charlie points at his empty plate and wipes his mouth with a napkin.

Bella beams at me. I knew this place would be a good pick for Charlie.

"Bella, will you show me where the restroom is?"

"Sure, Sue, I'll come with you."

The women leave Charlie and I alone to stare at each other. His silence unnerves me.

"So, Alice is doing well," I say in an effort to start a safe conversation.

Charlie takes a pack of toothpicks out of his shirt pocket and offers me one. The sharp cinnamon flavor burns my lips and makes me wonder if Charlie once smoked.

"Yeah. I'm looking forward to seeing her. And she's coming home when, Monday?"

"Yes, Monday… that's the plan."

"Good. I'm sure Bella will be happy to have her home."

"Yes," I agree. Though in reality, I'm anxious to know what Alice's arrival will mean for Bella and me.

Charlie narrows his eyes and drops his voice, "Bella looks pretty good… so she's doing okay?"

"Yes," I say brightly, "she's doing great."

"No nightmares?"

"Um… no, not really. Maybe one." Charlie nods once.

"And she hasn't said anything about coming back to Forks."

_Dangerous territory, Masen. _

"Um… I know she misses you… but she likes her job and…"

"I hate that job," Charlie cuts me off.

"You do? Me too…" _Charlie, my compadre._

"I don't know why a person goes to college so they can have the same job they've always had… and don't get me started on the Newton family."

_Oh, but I want to… please get started. _

I lean in, conspiratorially, "What do you think about the whole law school vs. criminal justice question."

"Law school," Charlie says definitively. "And not criminal law. If she wanted to stay in Forks, criminal justice would be fine… but Bella wants to be in the city. I don't want her surrounded by the scum of the Earth… city scum."

"Exactly." I am nearly gloating.

"I'll tell you something, Edward…" Charlie leans in and points at me with his toothpick, "be careful of that smile you're sporting there."

I clear the expression from my face and lean back in my chair.

"The more you and I push Bella to law school, the more likely she'll go into criminal justice." I hear Sue and Bella approach behind me, and Charlie lowers his voice even further and says, "Trust me on this one."

Sue's heavy hand rests on my shoulders as Bella's rests on Charlie's.

"Alright gentlemen, I think we're all done here. Ready to go to the hospital?" Sue asks.

Simultaneously, Charlie and I reach for our wallets and call rights to pay the check.

"No, it's already settled," Sue says as Bella smiles sheepishly. Charlie and I protest and I realize the hands on our shoulders are not coincidence.

"As much fun as it would have been to see you two fight over the check…" Sue's voice reaches above ours, "Bella and I wanted to treat today—no arguments."

I glare at Bella and she bats her eyelashes in the way she does when she wins. I look at Charlie; he mirrors my glare at Sue.

"No arguments," Sue repeats.

As Charlie and I rise from the table, Sue hooks her arm around mine and says, "I'll ride with Edward."

Bella and Charlie depart from the restaurant in one direction, while Sue and I head towards my car in the other.

Wanting to give them more time together, Sue and I take our time strolling arm and arm.

"How is Charlie doing?"

"About the same as Bella."

Though I don't know what she means, I nod.

"They're recovering. Slowly, but surely, they're recovering. Bella needs to eat more, but don't push her."

"Okay."

"She'll feel better once she's wearing her own clothes again."

Before I can ask Sue what she means, she continues, "There's a silver lining in this whole mess, aside from the obvious ones. Charlie is realizing that he might be a good father after all."

"Charlie's a great father."

"Yes, I think so, too. He sure is missing Bella. He bought a cell phone with a keyboard so he can text her. Probably showing it to Bella right now."

We both smile at our images of a texting Charlie.

"Sue, I know it's a lot of driving for you two, but I'd love for you to meet Carlisle and Esme. You should come for Sunday dinner sometime."

"Carlisle and Esme… remind me, the names are familiar."

"Oh, they're friends of the family. I go there for Sunday dinners."

"Friends of the family? Your parents?

"Yes. I've been going there for years."

"Huh… How long ago did your parents die, Edward?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your parents… "

"I… um… how did you…"

"From the moment I met you, I knew you had wounds, I've been wondering where they were."

"Wounds… um… I don't…"

I pull at my hair and Sue wraps her arm more tightly around mine.

"Edward, few people possess your kind of empathy unless they've walked through that fire themselves. It's one of the gifts that come from tragedy."

I struggle between asking a million questions and wanting to keep silent, letting her talk. There is so much to learn here.

"Sue, how long ago did your husband die…? I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude… do you mind me asking?"

"It's not rude at all. Let's see… when did he die? A lifetime ago… yesterday… going on fifteen years, to be exact." Sue sighs, and it is almost a hopeful sound. "I'm still recovering. That's what we do. We get strong enough for when the next blow comes, and in-between, we love and laugh and take walks with friends."

We walk in silence for a few more moments and Sue looks over to me. "Sorry, Edward. I didn't mean to make life sound so depressing. I have the tendency to do that. Life is good." Sue says these words with such unwavering confidence, it gives me hope. "When you think you've reached your capacity for love, you find a whole new level you didn't know existed. Do you know what I mean, Edward?"

"Um… it makes sense. So, you mean other people… well… Charlie sort of filled the void?"

"Yes and no. It took me a long time to see that my feelings for Charlie did not take away an ounce of love for Harry. Charlie isn't just filling a void; it's much more than that. I've had two great loves in my life and each is completely different from the other."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Yes, it is. So, what's your story?"

"My parents died in a break-in ten years ago."

"And are you recovering?"

"I think so."

We reach the car and I open the door for her. "Sue, can I ask you something else?"

"Yes, Edward. You will make mistakes, but in the end, you and Bella will be fine."

I gape at her as her grin widens. _This woman is not real._

"We'll be fine, but will we be together?"

"I am a wise Quileute woman, Edward, not a fortune teller."

"Right… sorry."

Sue rests her hand on my cheek and looks into my eyes for a long while. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was reading my fortune. "I'd say the odds are in your favor."

"Thanks."

~ooOoo~

Click

_Bella, my parents died in a break-in ten years ago.  
I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.  
I hope you will forgive me. _

"Edward… do you want to watch a movie? We could… um… make it like a date movie."

_Oh. Date night… I forgot. _

Click

_Bella, my parents died in a break-in ten years ago.  
I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.  
I hope you will forgive me. _

"Edward?"

"Um… I don't care, you can put one on."

Click

_Bella, my parents died in a break-in ten years ago.  
I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner.  
I hope you will forgive me. _

"Edward… is that… is that dangerous?"

"Is what dangerous?"

Click

"Turning the fireplace on and off like that."

I scoff. "This isn't a fireplace, it's a glorified gas oven…" I turn it back on.

Click

"Bella, a fire is not something you turn on and off with a switch. Look at it… there's no life here… no smell of burning wood… you can't move it, awaken it… no crackling embers… it's silent… dead… fake."

Bella sits quietly on the couch for a long time. She's barely said a word since dinner. Maybe I've barely spoken. I don't know.

"Should we call it an early night and head up?" Bella's careful voice is distant, falling away from me. "We have church in the morning," she continues, "are we going to Carlisle and Esme's for dinner?"

"No." Oh, the freedom to say no. But I can't take this misery… I can't prolong this… "Yes… maybe we'll go."

"Are your parents going to-"

"No," I snarl under my breath.

The deadline is here. My breathing becomes labored. I begin to sweat. _What was I going to say again? My parents were murdered… no… they passed away… they died… and I should have saved them… I can run fast…_

.

I'm stretching out across the bottom of my parents' bed watching TV with them.

There is a loud thumping downstairs, the sound of cracking wood, a crash.

I hear my mother's hushed, terrified voice as she says to my father, "_Edward, the phone is dead." _

My father's hand is crushing my wrist as he yanks me out of paralysis and pulls me to my bedroom. "_Under the bed. Don't make a sound_."

In my bedroom, I am terrified.

.

In this condo, I am dizzy. My arms, outstretched, clutching onto the mantel… I can't breathe.

"Edward…" _Oh God, she's right behind me_, "let me help you… what do you need?"

_What do I need? I need, I want…_

Hot coal, in the shape of Bella's hands, sears into my back. I flex and arch away.

My mouth dries; I cannot swallow. Cannot speak.

Bella speaks, but I cannot understand her words through the buzzing in my ears.

"_Edward… help… talk… make love…" _Are the only words I can decipher.

I turn to her and see a blur of pallid skin.

This is what I want:_ Make love… Sex… Fuck… Distraction … _

My mouth pools with saliva.

My hands are holding her head, my tongue down her throat.

And I am walking her backwards.

And I am pulling her bottom lip between my clenched teeth.

And I am twisting her away from me.

And I am yanking down jeans, loosened by grief.

And I am bending her over the arm of the sofa.

And I am shoving my hand down white cotton innocence.

And I am dragging fingers over folds of dry flesh.

_Dry flesh. _

I see a hand smashing her ribs into the sofa cushion.

_My hand. _

Christ.

I stumble back until my spine hits the wall.

Lights and sound intensify. Psychedelically blinding, deafening. My world looks too crisp, surreal.

Bella pulls on her jeans and turns to me, looking ashamed. _Ashamed?_ I look away. "I'm sorry, Edward…" _Sorry?_ "I want to do this for you. I'm not… my body's not ready yet. I need a few minutes."

This whole scene is repulsive.

My stomach churns and my body makes decisions my mind cannot.

I find myself upstairs. Pulling on sweats. Slipping on running shoes over too-thin socks. I am downstairs again to find Bella frozen in the same place.

"I'm going for a run."

"Yes. Good idea." We don't meet eyes.

"I'll be back."

"I know."

"Lock the door; I have my key."

"I will."

From my peripheral vision, I see Bella nod. I should look at her, but I can't.

My mind is fragmented, but my body complete, alive. I am flying down flights of stairs. I am jogging through the lobby, wanting to run. I am bursting out into the night air and feeling the cool wind break across my face.

And I am free, running, sprinting toward the water. I hit my rhythm and turn north down the path, pumping my arms and striking the blacktop with each long stride.

_I can run fast._

I could always run fast, and tonight, I do.

Weaving my way around casual cyclists and late-night joggers, my mind clears of every thought but one—_run_.

Adrenaline propels me. For miles, I run like a cat—swift, graceful, silent.

Her voice_, 'I'm sorry, Edward. I want to do this for you…'_

_No!_

My legs are springs, but my lungs are heavy. I turn off the path and find myself alone, running along the train tracks.

Cargo bins and empty train cars, a story high, line my route. Soot scrapes my throat, but I push harder. Stumbling along the gravel, I lose the rhythm of breathing. I am gasping, short on air. Arms and legs flail as I try to slow my momentum. Grabbing the fence that separates me from the water, I stop the force that is my body.

I bend at the waist and clutch my thighs, wheezing. Shockwaves pulse throughout my muscles and ears.

Oxygen brings thought, memory, emotion. Images from tonight and _that_ night flit like a horror show behind my eyes. I look down at my hand. Yes, it was my hand.

_Why, God?_

_Have I not suffered enough? _

_Have I not caused enough suffering?_

_How could I hurt her like that?_

I drop my knees to the gravel surface—the pain stops the images.

_What has happened to me?_

I fall onto my back and stare at the starless sky then force the heel of my hands into my eyes.

I am a sexual deviant. A monster awakened. Did that actually happen? She won't forgive me. _She shouldn't forgive._

She already has—she's apologized.

_No, no, no._

She's forgiven Mike for worse.

I bury the thought.

Stretching out my hand in front of me, I make a fist then splay my fingers, feeling the clicks that still remain from my injured knuckles. _My hand._

I raise my second hand to the night sky and turn them—palm, to back, and over again. _Where are they?_ I search for the faint marks on the back of my hands—scars only visible to me and, when my eyes adjust to the dark, they appear—my private scars.

Like dead weight, my arms flop open and hit the cold rocks. With my eyes closed, I pray for my body to liquefy and seep into the Earth. _Let me disappear, Lord._

Only two weeks ago—_who was I two weeks ago?_

_I was happy, wasn't I? _

_But oh, so fucking lonely. _

I'm lonely now.

Tears stream from my eyes to my ears.

I want my mom and dad.

I pull my sweat jacket over my face to muffle my bawling, but I still hear the echo bouncing back to me from the water. I roll to my side and curl my head into my arms, praying again to disappear.

I sob my way through confusion and self-loathing until there is nothing left.

_Please God, let me know you're here tonight. Let me know you're listening. It's childish to ask—but please give me a sign. Let me know you still love me._

My surroundings are silent; there is no sign. I roll to my back and open my eyes. Far beyond the thick layer of clouds, I see something. One star. One faint, but visible, star in the sky.

_God of Mercy, you are here, aren't you? That star is my sign. That star is you. _Tears flow again as I stare at the celestial being above me and follow it with my eyes as it slowly glides across the sky.

Wait.

_That's not a sign; that's an airplane. _

_Oh, fuck it. I'll take what I can get. _

I sit up, reach for the fence and hoist myself up.

Not yet ready to go back to the condo, I continue running, away from the trains. I need to find clarity, understanding… I need time to pray.

I run for several miles without thought. It is meditative; I can hear, but not feel my feet pound the pavement. My body is at ease, my mind calm.

The first image that materializes in my mind is my mother's face. Alive. Her entire being glows as she sees my father return from another trip to Seattle. We watch him from the living room window emerging from a taxicab, suitcase in one hand, a trench coat folded over his arm.

Mom opens the front door and he drops his suitcase. Their bodies crash into an embrace. My father straightens his long frame, lifting my mother off her feet. They don't kiss, just hug. He sways her before resting her back down and reaching for me.

"Did you take care of Mom for me?" Dad brings me into a hug and I feel Mom's hand in my hair.

"I tried." And I did; I would do anything to make them proud.

"Edward was a big help around the house this week." I look down at my mother's smile. Even at age fourteen, I surpassed her height.

"Edward…" my father speaks to me, but looks at my mother for approval, she nods and he continues, "how would you like it if we all moved to Seattle?"

"Move?" _But I have so many friends here. I'm shy… I don't want to meet new friends._

"Your mother and I met a very good real estate agent. We told her everything we needed in a new house and we told her you needed a high school with an excellent baseball team. I think we found one."

"Really?" _You did that for me?_

"Edward, it will mean that your father won't have to leave on any more trips. Would you like that?"

"Yeah… Yes," I correct myself, "I'd like that. I don't want you to go away anymore."

"Good, son. I don't want to go away anymore, either. We should go inside. We have a big 'to do' list to write."

I miss living in the bubble of love.

I see Discovery Park. _I must be close to seven or eight miles from the condo—from Bella._

I loop back around and plan my return route through the streets of Seattle.

A second memory emerges. I'm with Tanya, upstairs at a fraternity party. She has me pressed against the wall in a desolate hallway. Small piles of trash and the odor of stale beer are everywhere. I'm holding both of our piss warm beers in plastic cups as she kisses my sweaty neck. I'm trashed, horny, and so fucking hard.

_Why am I thinking about this? _

I run through the streets of Magnolia, now feeling the unforgiving road with each step.

"Come on, Edward. It'll feel so good. I'll make you feel so good," she says in a silky voice, and smelling of sweet perfume. I look down her gaping top and see the curves of her breasts, the lace of bra. Her nipples look so hard. I want to feel how hard they are… I want to feel with my lips and tongue. Tanya brushes her hand over my throbbing erection, strained against my jeans.

"I can't." I tip my head back against the wall, closing my eyes.

She pulls my head down and whispers in my ear, "My pussy's so wet for you."

I groan and pulse harder. Torture.

She strokes me more firmly. "I want to feel this inside of me."

I turn my head and try to curb my slurred speech, "Other things… we can do other things. You know I can't have sex… not before marriage."

Even as I say it, I don't know if it is true—if this is the real reason. _Maybe I don't want to have sex with you_, I want to say. _Maybe I don't want to have sex with anyone._

"I'll be gentle," she says and starts to giggle. _She's laughing at me—don't laugh at me._ "Isn't that what they say? I'll be gentle?" She continues to giggle.

"Don't… don't do that, Tanya."

"You're right. I'm sorry, Edward." She sounds sincere. Tanya softly kisses her apology. As she pulls away, I lean in, prolonging the kiss. I still want to kiss her.

"I'll make it up to you." Tanya drops to her knees and unbuttons the top button of my jeans. _Oh God._ _Not here, someone could walk by._ I want to stop her but I'm still holding the beers. _Why am I holding these beers?_ I toss them away, adding to the trash and smell.

"Don't… stop…" I take her upper arms and pull her up.

"Oh, Edward," she's defeated, "you don't expect me to wait forever, do you?"

"I didn't know you were waiting."

She sighs and shakes her head. _Did I hurt her feelings?_

"Such a waste." Tanya kisses me again, but this time, it's platonic. "Good bye, Edward, and good luck."

I watch her walk down the hall. "Tanya, wait…" She raises her hand, a final goodbye, and heads down the stairs.

My body is aching, my legs are heavy, but I have a few more miles to go.

_Why these memories? Why together? My life was ordered, simple. I had Jasper, Carlisle, Esme, and God… what more could I want? What more could I handle? _

_Isabella Swan is a mother fucking curve ball… but I love that curve ball. _

The last wave of endorphins kicks in and I ride my runner's high.

_Yes, you are a curve ball, Bella. And I'm going into that condo—our home—drop to my knees, and tell you I love you. Damn it, maybe I'll propose tonight. And I'm going to tell you all about the worst night of my life, I'll probably weep like a baby, but I don't care, because I love you and I want to be completely honest with you. I want you to know me—all of me. _

I see The Vine in the distance and the sight alone pulls me into it like a magnet. _That is where my Bella is waiting for me. _Oh, my body protests, I feel each muscle, ligament, and joint giving me its last, dying bit of energy. My feet are on fire… each step a brief eruption of pain.

Pulling off my sweat jacket, I stumble through my last steps to the door.

I'm panting for air, but euphoric.

I pass through the lobby—the concierge is gone. It must be late… I'm not wearing a watch.

Pressing the elevator button, I give up waiting for an appropriate time and place; these shoes must come off. I take them off to find I'm still wearing grey dress socks. They are fused to my feet by deep red circles of blood.

The elevator opens and I enter. With care, I pull off each sock and several layers of blistered skin, wincing at the pain. Tucking the socks into my sneakers, I look down at my raw, bloody, feet. My muscles are already starting to tighten. I am feeling the pain.

The elevator pings, the door opens, and…

"_ALICE!" _

That's Bella. Her screaming voice hits me in the chest. I drop my shoes and run for the door. I fumble for the key in the small pocket in the waistband of my sweatpants.

"_No! Alice!_"

_Oh God. Not Alice… no please, not Alice. _I unlock the first bolt. My hands are shaking so badly, I can't get the key into the second lock—metal scrapes against metal as I try to slip the key into the keyhole. Pounding my open hand against the door, I yell to her, "_Bella, I'm coming… I'm here…_" But her screams continue. _God, help me._

Another lock… and another… _Fuck these locks_…

"_Bella! I'm coming!"_

I open the last lock and explode through the door, following her voice into the living room.

Bella is on her knees, slamming her hands against the window glass so forcefully, it could shatter.

It takes a split second for me to realize she's dreaming.

I run to her, grab her waist, and lift her off the ground. "_Wake up, Bella!_"

"_No!_ I won't leave you Alice…" Her arms and legs flail; he whole body strives to wrestle out of my grip.

I fall back onto the floor with her. _Please help me._

"No Mike, let me go," she demands through gritted teeth.

"Wake up, Bella… It's Edward, not Mike… _Please wake up_." I say, shaking her.

Twisting to the side, she breaks free from my sweaty grip and crawls back to the window. _She's so strong, fast... lost. _

I reach out and grab her ankles, dragging her back to me on her stomach. Her thin camisole twists into a cord of fabric above her breasts.

Using more force than I should, I turn her away from the glass, throw her on her back and straddle her body.

Trying to buck me off with her hips and landing rapid-fire slaps against my face, she screams through her dream. Still begging for her to wake, I grab her arms and throw them above her head with thud, stretching my body out, pinioning hers to the ground.

She silences.

Staring up at me, her cloudy, black eyes crystallize.

We stare at each other, frozen, as we catch our breaths.

In a tone so cold, it makes me shiver, she whispers, "_Get off of me_."

.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

Next update, one week (maybe sooner).

Love,

Liz x


	15. Unlocked

A/N

Wow, what a response to the last chapter!

I didn't have time to respond to many reviews because, well… you know… I've been writing.

Thanks to usual suspects: orangeapeal, robsjenn, Sunshine, and my beta, PaintedTeacherLady

Seatbelts still on?

* * *

Chapter Fourteen:

_Staring up at me, her cloudy, black eyes crystallize._

_We stare at each other, frozen, as we catch our breaths. _

_In a tone so cold, it makes me shiver, she whispers, "_Get off of me."

.

* * *

Chapter Fifteen  
Unlocked

.

.

I spring off of Bella and clamber back away on the heels of my hands.

Bella tries to do the same, but attempting to pull down of her camisole makes her frenzied movements cumbersome.

"Bella…" I say to grab her attention as I roll to my knees showing her the palms of my hands, but once she looks at me, I don't know what else to say—I feel as lost as she looks.

Never breaking her frightened stare, she uses the pause to untwist the fabric and pull the top down over her stomach, glowing red from her rug burn. When she is done, she resumes crawling away from me, through the dining area, until her back hits the wall of the breakfast bar.

I can hear her short bursts of breath as she scans the room, only taking her eyes off of me for seconds at a time. _Does she still think she's dreaming?_

The instructions Charlie told me time and time again come back to me: She doesn't always know she's been dreaming or remembers the dreams. Sometimes she's confused when she wakes. Speak with authority; make her feel safe. _Make her feel safe. _

"Bella," I possess Charlie's voice, "you were dreaming. You had a nightmare."

"Yes," she whispers, as if she's answering a question.

"You're awake now; you're in the condo."

She quickly nods, scanning the room again before meeting my eyes. "I know." There is no air behind her raspy voice. Still appearing disoriented, her brows pull together and she asks in a shaky voice, "Alice?"

"Alice is fine, she's great. Alice will be home in two days."

"Two days," Bella repeats back to herself.

_She needs my help; I need to help her. Fuck, what do I do? _

Still showing my palms, I carefully begin to rise to my feet.

"No," she growls, holding out her hands, stopping me.

"Okay, okay…" I return to my knees.

Bella quickly stands, using one hand to feel the wall, while the other holds me in place. Her mouth drops open and long, dazed blinks tell me she's dizzy.

"I just want to help you, Bella."

"I'm okay… don't need help. I can take care of myself," she says as if to herself, glancing towards the hallway that leads to the front door.

_She's going to run._ A new height of panic sings through my body. I look at her feet as she takes a step to the side. _She's not wearing shoes. She won't run… can't run… I can catch her before she reaches the door. _

Bella looks like a feral cat, ready to dart at any sudden movements. As subtly as I can, I dig the toes of one foot into the floor, giving me leverage to pounce.

Another step toward the door and I try again in a more compassionate voice, "Bella, I know you can take care of yourself, but…" and another step, "Bella," I warn.

Bella catches the sight of my knee lifting and bolts down the hallway.

I leap into my sprint. My outreached fingertips graze her arm as she ducks into the bathroom and slams the door in my face.

A good shake of the doorknob tells me it's already locked.

"_Oh, Mother Mary_," I hear through the door, followed by a strange sound—crying or coughing, but muffled, maybe in a towel.

I smooth my hands over the door as if I'm feeling a fire on the other side, because really, there is.

"Bella… Isabella… " I press my forehead to the door and try the doorknob again, "if you need me I'm right outside the door."

"I'm fine… I want to be alone… please leave me alone," Her voice is raw from screaming.

_What the fuck just happened? Was that a typical nightmare for her?_ Charlie warned me, but… _holy shit._ I try to envision Charlie and Bella during their week in Forks. Did she try to wrestle him like that? I can't help but to feel hurt by her rejection… the way she seemed to fear of me. _Maybe I was in her nightmare._

The muffle sounds continue and I try the lock again. _Give her some time alone. She's confused; let her recuperate._ I take a cleansing breath, rest my back against the door, and sink down to the floor.

The clock on the kitchen wall across the hall catches my eye. _Shit, I've been gone for hours. _I knew I ran far, but I hadn't realized… Thoughts wander away from the last few minutes and I start to piece together the whole night.

Damp hair and pajamas—Bella took a shower and fell asleep on the couch. _How long was she locked in her nightmare? _She was alone… I left her alone for hours. I attacked her, _oh Jesus_, I attacked her and left for hours… she woke from a nightmare and I was still attacking her.

The muffled sound on the other side of the door becomes understandable… dry heaves… she's hiding the sound of her retching body. Why is she…? _Oh, God_… I now notice the scent of bleach… Bella's already vomited. I assaulted her… no, I spent the night being cold and distant… no, the last three days being cold and distant, then I assaulted her and left. I made her sick… and now she's hidden away in the bathroom.

Separated only by this door, I hear her right next to me; she, too, is on the floor. I press my ear to the wood and hear her whispering a prayer…. _Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry._ I try to make out her prayer. _I want to pray with you._

I pick out her rhythm, as she repeats the prayer in a steady stream… there is a repetitive _'s'_ sound. _Christ?_ Yes, Christ… she's saying Christ. _What is your prayer, Bella? _I lie on my stomach and listen through the space at the bottom of the door.

"_I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me_. _I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me_… " My heart slices open. It is not a prayer; it is a distress signal.

I roll onto my back and cover my eyes with my forearm. Dry heaves begin again and I look at the clock—_twelve minutes_—Bella has been locked away for twelve minutes.

I watch the second hand sweep—_thirteen minutes_.

More dry heaves—_fourteen minutes_.

I can take no more; she can take no more. Patting down my body, I search for the key.

I stand and open the front door to find my key stuck in the last lock, _sick_ _irony._ As I find my resolve, movements become automatic.

From the refrigerator, I grab a bottle of Pedialyte. I fill a glass with water from the refrigerator door and take two straws from the cupboard. All the while, I hold the key in my fist. _Fifteen minutes._

Opening the refrigerator door again, I eye the orange juice. _I am so thirsty, but don't deserve to drink._ I open the cap, stand in the open door, raise it to my lips and curse myself with each long glug of the ice-cold, sweet, acidic juice. Spilling down the corners of my mouth, over my jaw and neck, I inhale the juice until my body can expand no more.

I wipe my face with my hand, peel off my sweat soaked t-shirt, throw it into the laundry, and pull a fresh one from the dryer. _Seventeen minutes._

I open my fist and see a jagged purple imprint on my palm surrounding the key. With the Pedialyte in the crook of my arm and holding the glass of water, I raise the key to the lock and take inventory of all my entrance will mean: She will resist my help, possibly frightened of me; I will be sending the message, '_No, Bella you can't take care of yourself.' _And tomorrow she will leave me, as she should. I repeat for myself, _I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, _and… _click… _Bella unlocks the door. I pause to take a breath.

The door swings open a few inches before it hits her body on the tile floor. Watching her drag her herself away from the door, I wait until she's far enough for me to slip inside.

Devastating. I have to avert my eyes for a moment to steel myself, then I drop to the floor, put down the drinks and yank a pile of towels from the shelf.

A lifeless marionette, there is no resistance when I pull her shoulders and head up onto my lap. Her arms and legs look twisted and uncomfortable. I lift her arm, then place it down more comfortably. Listening to Bella's breathing quicken with my touch, I know she doesn't want my hands on her_._ She shifts and adjusts her body, pulling her knees up and turning her head away from me.

Gingerly, I lift her head and place a towel for a pillow on my lap, and lay her back down.

Bella's colorless skin is nearly invisible. I see blue veins throughout her face, neck, arms… everywhere.

Wide, glassy, dead eyes stare at nothing in front of her. A lock of hair, soaked in cold sweat sticks to her neck in perfect curl. What lies in front of me is only her shell; Bella Swan is far away.

Pedialyte first, I decide. As I bring the straw to her mouth, Bella parts her lips willingly. She stretches her neck and, as I guide the straw in and her lips close around it, I notice the fresh blood in the cut on her lip. I ripped open her wound tonight with my kiss. _My kiss._

"Thank you," she mouths without a sound.

"Shhh, Bella."

_Please don't thank me. _

I would talk to God right now, but I don't think I deserve to.

She opens her mouth again to speak, but it takes a moment before the words come, "I'm okay."

"I know," I whisper my lie. I go to touch her shoulder, but she curves it away from me.

She opens her mouth again I think to speak, but winces, pushes off of my legs, and tries to crawl off of me.

I don't understand what she is doing until she vomits Pedialyte on the floor. I pull her away from the small pink puddle and back onto my lap. She begins to shiver and I can't stop myself from lifting her body and embracing her.

I have no right to speak, but the damn breaks and I begin to babble, "I'm so, so sorry, Bella. I don't know what came over me… I… I…" there are no adequate words.

"Please stop talking."

_Yes, I should stop talking. _

I rest her head back down. The best thing I can do for her is to follow her rules: _Do not touch her; do not speak._

She parts her lips again and I bring the glass of water to her mouth. She drinks. Moments later, I feel her stomach spasm. Too weak to lift her own body, I hold a towel next to her mouth, she further turns her head and the water flows back out.

Sometime it takes minutes, and others only second, but the water always comes back up. We continue like this in silence for what seems like an eternity.

Each time, I imagine what vision or thought provokes the retching. Is it the memory of Mike's disregard for her humanity? Is it the accident retold in her nightmares? Or is it something worse—her current reality of being on a bathroom floor with a man she met two weeks ago, away from Alice and Charlie and everyone she loves and trusts?

_A knight in shining armor? _

I have ejaculated on her, but never said I loved her.

I am no knight. I am no man of God.

Between sips of water and vomiting, I shove my hands in my hair to stop myself from touching her.

Slow, but unsteady, she breaths like a dying fish. I lean over her to get a better view of her eyes—still locked in a black stare.

Bella's wrecked body shows all the signs of food poisoning, but she is suffering from the more sinister form of venom, human behavior.

Bella drinks the last sip of water from the glass and just as I prepare a new, dry corner of the towel, it comes back up.

_Okay… okay… this isn't working_.

A wave of anxiety crashes over me… she's not well… she needs an IV… sedatives… psychological intervention… something… _God damn it_. If I take her to the hospital, they'll probably commit her… maybe they should.

"Hospital," I say with Charlie's authority.

"No." It's the strongest her voice has been all night.

"Let's go see Alice… don't you want to see Al-"

"_No_," she grits through her teeth.

_She's so fucking defiant._ _Fuck, fuck, fuck. Think, Edward… God damn it! Jasper? No—she'd freak out. Hospital, IV, Alice… Alice, prayer… Alice, prayer, ice chips… she needs ice chips. _

I pick up Bella's head and place another clean towel under it as try to rise.

_Oh, shit. _I wobble on useless legs, numb from sitting. I stagger into the kitchen and fill a coffee mug with ice chips, shaking out my limbs. A quick glance at the clock tells me it has been well over an hour. _The tile is ruthless; I have to get her off the floor. _

I go back in, crouch down, and risk speaking again, "Bella, I need to take you upstairs. You must get off this floor."

"I… " she swallows and takes a few labored breaths, she's loosing strength, "am… going… nowhere."

I sit back down and pull her up again on my lap. This time she weakly resists, but I pretend not to notice. I bring an ice chip to her mouth; she opens, and takes it. And again. One by one, she lets me feed her.

Selfishly, I sometimes let my thumb graze her bottom lip. _I need her touch… I'll miss her touch… Tomorrow, she'll leave. I can't think about that. _

It's working. The ice chips are half gone and she hasn't vomited, but she's cold. I pull the last clean towels from the floor and lay them over her shivering body. I want to warm her, but she'll reject whatever I offer. _Fuck—how can I protect her if she refuses to protect herself? _

I throw my head back against the tile wall and the pain feels so fucking good, justified. I slam it again, harder… and again…

"_Please stop,"_ she breathes and places her hand on my knee.

I look down and, for the first time tonight, her eyes are closed. _Please rest, Bella; I'll stop if you rest. _

"Ice… _please_," she says with her eyes still closed, opening her mouth again.

One by one, I feed her the rest of the chips. Her bottom lip quivers from the cold, and damning it all, I try one more offer, "Blanket."

"Yes… yes, _please_." I can barely hear her words; she's almost asleep.

I slip out from under her and go to the linen closet down the hall. As my hand touches the blanket, I hear her broken cry.

I run back, "Bella…?" to see her trying to shut the door with her foot while moving herself to the corner. _What happened? _The hand she uses to shield herself calls my attention to the feather that pushed her over the cliff—a circle of urine on her pajama pants. _Oh, my Bella._ Her body is exhausted.

_I am DONE playing by her rules. Fuck the consequences. _

I lay the blanket over her, and though she cries her protests, I scoop her up.

_Lord, I'm not asking for me… please let me care for her. _

"Isabella, I'm taking you upstairs. I am _not_ to be argued with." Speaking to her in this way is not a right, but a requirement.

Suddenly, her struggling and crying cease. She turns into my chest and I can feel her exhale warm breath through my shirt; I can swear it is a relieved sound.

I carry her upstairs, lay her down on the bed, and run the bath.

When I return, she is standing at the end of the bed, with one trembling hand shielding her eyes.

On the area of the dresser where Bella keeps her things, I find the hairclip she often uses. I crawl on the bed and twist her hair in a sloppy bun, using the clip to hold it together.

"Arms up," I whisper, and she complies.

I pull her camisole off and her hand returns to her eyes.

I walk around in front of her. On my knees, I hook my thumbs into her pajama pants and underwear, and as I do, a single soft sob tumbles from her lips.

I look at my hands holding the waistband and realize there are a myriad of things that could cause that sob.

"May I?"

Bella nods her consent.

I peel her pajamas and underwear down to the floor.

"Step," I whisper and she complies.

I pick her up and carry her to the bathtub. Stepping one foot in the bath so I can rest her down carefully, I feel the warm water burn my raw foot.

The water rises and the color of her rug burn returns; purple-brown bruises on her forearms from pounding the window appear.

I bathe her, careful to use the washcloth and not my hands to touch her.

I take the glass from the vanity and fill it with cool water.

Bringing it to her lips, I say, "Sip." She tries to take a gulp, and I tip the glass away, "Slow." I feed her one slow sip after another until the glass is empty. All the while, the trembling hand still covers her eyes. I wonder to where she has gone, if she's found a new happy place, if she complies because she wants to or because I insisted. My tone was harsh.

As I the switch the lever to drain the tub of water, she attempts to lift herself out.

"Careful." I hold her free hand and help her step out of the tub.

Standing like a statue, she lets me dry her.

I take her free hand and lead her into the bedroom.

Few things remain in Bella's drawer, nothing to sleep in. The only clean pair of panties is the lace pair she bought for me, for us. I can't bring myself to put them on her.

I take out a pair of my flannel pajamas, the top of which I never wear. Bella slips each arm in and I button it up.

"Step." She steps into the bottoms and I pull them up over her bare hips. Pulling the drawstring, I keep them loose enough to prevent any further damage to her tender burn. "Lift." As she lifts each leg, I gather the material and fold the hems.

I sit back on my heels and look up at her. There is nothing to say.

"Done?" she asks in a small, but unreadable voice.

"Yes."

"Thank you."

Bella immediately gets into bed and scoots to the far corner, curling herself into a ball.

I stay on my knees watching her back expand and collapse. The desire to stand is useless. As my anesthetic daze evaporates, I am unable to move_. She'll leave tomorrow. Where will she go? She can't go back to her apartment alone._ _I made a promise to Charlie. _

With great effort, I force my bottom lip and teeth to meet. "Forks?"

Bella stirs for a moment, then resumes her breathing.

In an eerily calm voice she says, "I understand if you want me to leave."

"No..." Tears pick at my eyes and I try to coax the words caught in my throat, "No, I want you to stay here with me... please stay with me."

"I want to stay."

The tension I didn't know I held begins to leave my body; I feel like I'm melting.

"Rough night, huh, Edward?"

I almost have to laugh, but can't, instead I simply reply, "Yes."

"I'm sor- sorry for putting you through that," her composure breaks for only a second, and the calm returns. "Thank you for taking care of me."

My 'you're welcome' is little more than an exhale.

"I'm mad at you for earlier tonight."

"I know."

"And I might still be a little mad tomorrow."

"Okay."

"But I'll forgive you."

_I don't deserve it. _

"You more than deserve it," she reads my mind and leaves me astounded by her grace.

"I need to sleep in tomorrow," she says.

"Yes."

I wait for a long time for her to speak again, but she doesn't. Her breathing slows, but the sleeping purr does not come. When she's been still long enough to be asleep, I find the energy to stand, take a pillow, and head for the stairs to sleep on the couch.

"Edward…" her voice halts me. Though she has not moved, she's completely awake.

"Yes, Bella?"

"Will you still sleep in bed with me?"

"Yes."

I ease myself onto my side of the bed, staying above the covers, and keeping my distance from her.

"Thank you."

"Do you… do you want me to blow in your ear?"

It takes a long time for her to consider my offer; eventually she says, "Please."

Without touching her, I lean over and blow, trying to find a way to transform love into breath.

"Thank you."

"Get some sleep, Isabella," _my love._

"You too."

I lie still until she's been purring for a long while.

After I put a fresh glass of water on her nightstand and change into pajama pants, I return to bed, watch her sleep, and hear her make sounds, nonsensical words… I'm relieved that they don't sound sad.

In the middle of the night, while Bella sleeps, she migrates over to my side of the bed; she rests her head on my chest and lays her arm across my stomach. As soon as she does, I fall asleep.

~0~

I wake to the aroma of coffee and find Bella lying next to me. Though her back is to me, she isn't curled into her ball.

"I made coffee." Her voice still calm, matter of fact.

"I smell it, thank you." I sit up, look over to her side of the bed and see she has a new bottle of Pedialyte, but no coffee. She is holding Pedi. "Can I get you a cup?"

"No. I went down and had some cereal. I made the coffee for you."

"Thank you, I appreciate it."

Bella turns around, facing me, and gives a long sigh. Her eyes scan my face… maybe I am as difficult to read as she. "Are you going to church?"

"No. I'd like to stay here with you today."

A lock of hair escapes her bun and I go to move it behind her ear, but stop myself. The corner of her mouth creeps into a short-lived apologetic smile as she tucks it herself and says, "I'm not going to be much fun."

"No?"

Her smile returns, "No," and then fades again as she takes my hand. _Her touch_. "Oh, Edward, we really need to talk."

"I know," I say, looking down and nodding. My stomach tightens. The phrase 'we need to talk' always frightens me, regardless of who says it. From Bella's lips, it terrifies me. _But she wants to stay; she's not breaking up, is she?_

Edward…" Bella rubs her thumb over my knuckles and it feels so good, "that makes you nervous, doesn't it…? Saying we should talk?"

"Yes, it does." I stare at my knees and focus on her warm, soothing touch. "I don't think I ever had a positive conversation that started with that phrase. I don't know… I never really got punished as a kid, but when my dad said 'we need to talk'… well, it wasn't ever about anything good." I lie back down into bed and move down until we are at eye level. Turning to her, I brace myself. "Do you want to talk now?"

"If I say I'm not ready to talk yet, will that make it worse for you? Will it feel like a punishment?"

"No," I could use some time to prepare. I look at her, she appears so… normal, but last night… "You're still mad a me."

Bella releases my hand, bringing her finger and thumb together showing less than an inch. She squints as she looks at me through the small opening.

"Just that much?" I ask.

"Just that much."

She returns to squeezing Pedi.

"You shouldn't be so easy on me."

"Yes, I should… " Bella opens her mouth to speak again, but her chin begins to quiver, she shields her eyes with her hand and she begins to cry. I want to hold her or say something, but she starts to shake her head and wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. I think it's best to simply wait. "Sorry…" she sniffles and continues, "I was just so _confused_… and scared and angry last night… I…" she closes her eyes and shakes her head again, "I think I want to go back to sleep now."

"Okay… okay, Bella."

"Do you mind if I spend the day in bed, wallowing in self pity?"

"No. I'll do the same thing downstairs."

As I get up out of bed, Bella grabs my hand again. Closing her eyes, she presses my fingers firmly to her lips. I close my eyes and feel her warm tears roll down my pinky and thumb. She begins to release my hand but brings it back for two more kisses.

I place my hand on the top of her head. "Get some rest, Bella."

She looks up at me and nods, sinking further into the bed.

I head downstairs, take a fist full of Aleve with my coffee and the longest shower of my life.

Sitting on the couch, I open my laptop and absent-mindedly search through furniture store websites. I want to burn this couch. Just sitting here reminds me of forcing Bella over the arm. _Fuck it, too many choices. I'll ask Esme to pick one out._

_I hate that fireplace, too. I should move. I should get some hovel in the woods somewhere, make real fires, read books and listen to depressing music. I should take up hunting. No, I can't kill animals. Bird watching. _

With a surprising surge of energy, I get up and start to rearrange the furniture. I pull the coffee table and couch further from the fireplace. I roll up the area rug… fuck this rug… fuck all this shit. I push the dining room table across the living room, and up against the wall of glass. _I don't think I've ever eaten a meal at that table anyway. And if I want to, now it has a view._ Sliding the couch and coffee table into the former dining room area, I take a long, hard look at my work.

_Two chairs that used to anchor the couch remain in the living room… dining room… who the fuck knows what it is now. Why do I have so many places to sit? No one comes over here anyway. _

I move the two chairs to the bottom of the steps and make a separate seating area. _Fine, done._

In the kitchen, I make a double batch of milkshakes, one for each of us. I brace myself at the bottom of the stairs, wondering what I'll find at the top. _Time to talk? I hope not._

I'm somewhat relieved to find her asleep curled up in her little Bella ball—she needs to rest, we've been on a locomotive to only God knows where for two weeks. I place the glass down and head for the stairs.

"Thank you," she says, surprising me again with her full, alert voice.

"Hey, you're awake."

"Yes." She shifts and I can see her eyes again as I approach her. She's been crying, but isn't crying now. "How is your wallowing going?" Though her words are playful, her voice is sad, very sad.

"Eh… I've wallowed better. You?"

"I'm wallowing pretty well… I won't be doing this all day."

"Take all the time you need, Bella."

"Thanks." She tries to force a smile, but it doesn't quite make it.

All I want to do is crawl in bed with her and hold her, but I know I shouldn't.

"Can I get you anything else?"

She shakes her head. "Can I get you anything, Edward?"

_Touch me._

"No… thank you."

We hold each others' eyes for a long while and when I think I have no more purpose for being here, a lock of her hair falls down to her cheek. Feeling brave and greedy, I take my time brushing my fingertips over her forehead until I reach the lock, I slide my fingers down to the end, and Bella turns her face into my touch. _Thank you._ I close my eyes and just feel her velvet skin in the palm of my hand. I stroke my thumb over her cheek and I hear her soft hum. I could stand here forever, suspended, all other senses muted, only her creamy skin on my hand and her hum in the air.

I feel her hand on mine and it is time to stop. A soft kiss on my palm is my departing gift.

"I'll check on you again in a bit. If you need anything…"

"I know. Thank you." Her smile is warm, reassuring… I want to believe everything will be alright.

I descend the stairs to see the travesty I called furniture rearrangement. _Who the hell could live like this? _I move all of the furniture back with two exceptions: the couch now faces the large window instead of the fireplace-I don't have to look at the fireplace or the reflection of the couch in it, and the rolled up rug is now in the laundry room.

I sit on the couch, staring at the water between the buildings, and think about… nothing.

My cell phone buzzes.

I ignore it.

Morning light changes into afternoon light.

My cell phone continues to buzz.

I pull myself off of the couch, _oh, fuck… I'm sore._ Taking another fistful of Aleve, with a bottle of Pedialyte, I grab my cell phone, and return to my position on the couch.

Seven new texts.

Carlisle:

Hi Edward-

Missed you at church.  
Are you and Bella still coming for dinner?

I text back:

No, sorry I forgot to call.  
Bella isn't feeling well.

_Not a lie_, I tell myself.

The next one is from Charlie. _Charlie?_

Dear Edward,

This is a test. This is a texting test.  
Please respond.

-Charlie Swan

Huh, I wonder if Alice taught him to add an automatic signature… he really doesn't have to do that, neither does Alice.

Then there is one from Sue:

B & E-

If you two don't respond to Charlie,  
he's returning the phone.  
He thinks it's dysfunctional.

I text back to Charlie and Sue:

Sorry, it works. Busy day.  
Talk soon.

I have a twinge of guilt, still wondering if Bella should be in Forks right now.

Sue responds immediately:

Edward,

Now that you have my number,  
Don't be afraid to use it.

I think for a minute about responding, but decide against it.

The next three texts are from Alice. I can see her anxiety rise with each one. The last reads:

For fuck's sake, WHERE ARE YOU?  
Parents are gone-  
Do I need to take a cab home  
from the hospital tomorrow?

-Alice Brandon

Sorry Alice.  
We'll pick you up tomorrow.  
Can't come to visit today.

-E

An immediate response:

What's wrong?

-Alice Brandon

My response:

Nothing

-E

The phone rings and I let it go to voicemail.

A moment later, there's another text from her:

LIAR!  
Starting tomorrow,  
You can't hide shit from  
me any more.  
This is your only warning.

-Alice Brandon

I bury my head in my hands and the phone buzzes again.

E-

Please tell me  
You two are ok.

-Alice Brandon

A-  
We're ok.

-E

The last text is from Jasper:

Hey Edward-  
Squash this week? Lunch?

As soon as I see his name, my chest starts to ache. I want to talk to him… tell him everything that happened last night… ask him what to do. She needs therapy_… but fuck_… I'll have to tell him everything I did. _I don't want to tell him._ _He'll be so disappointed in me… I don't want anyone to know… but God knows, my parents know._ _They saw last night._

_Don't cry, you pussy. _The angry voice screams in my head, but it no use.

Before the inevitable bawling comes, I get off the couch and go into the bathroom. Quickly, I strip out of my clothes, turn on the shower, and step in before the first ugly sounds rip through my chest. Palms and forehead press against the tile as I wail. I don't even think there are tears, this is worse than tears, better than tears… this is guttural… primal… the expulsion of pain through sound. But it feels so fucking good to release all this shit.

_Fuck everyone… fuck everything… who gives a shit that I fucked up._ I force out a last cathartic howl and then bend my fingers back against the tile wall as far as they will go.

I stare at pink swirl of water and from the bleeding wounds on my feet until I am empty, done. I look at my cock and I'm sure it will never be hard again.

I get out of the shower, dry off, and dress.

I sit on the couch, staring at the water between the buildings, and think about… nothing.

My cell phone buzzes.

I ignore it.

Afternoon light changes into dusk.

My cell phone buzzes.

I ignore it.

I pull myself off the couch, and… _oh, fuck_, I'm sore. I take two Aleve and wash it down with a glug of orange juice. Opening the refrigerator and cabinet doors, I can't figure out what to eat, what to make Bella. I have no appetite and I gain a new appreciation for her need to 'work,' as she calls it, at eating. I pour a bowl of some cereal that seems to land between healthy and sweet—I don't pay attention to the name—and bring it up to her.

"Hey," I hear her voice before I reach the top.

"Hey."

"You brought me cereal?"

"I brought you cereal. Is that okay?"

"Cereal is always okay." I put it down on her bedside table and reach for the lamp. Looking for Bella's approval, she nods and I switch it on.

Bella blinks at the glare, but moves towards the center of the bed, and pats the spot in front of her. I sit.

"Have you eaten, Edward?"

"A little." I have to smirk at the reversal and it isn't lost on Bella.

"Can I cook you something?"

"No. Thank you."

"I want you to know, I'm almost done."

"Done being mad at me?"

"No… I stopped being mad at you hours ago. I'm almost done wallowing."

I should be elated that she's not mad at me, but this isn't right.

"Bella, how can you forgive me when I… when I…I haven't even properly apologized?"

"You tried last night, but I didn't let you."

_This is wrong—all wrong. _

"Bella…"

"Edward, I know. You should have the chance to say what you want to say. I'm just… I'm not…" she flops back onto the bed and rubs her hands over her face. Even in this light, her bruises are obvious.

"Need to wallow some more?"

She breathes her relief, "Yes," and rubs her hand on my shoulder, "thank you."

I stand and walk to the stairs.

"Edward?"

"Yes?" I stop at the top of the steps.

Bella sits up and when I turn to her, I see her beautiful face is riddled with concern. It's for me, that concern is for me. Taking a moment to find her words, she asks, "How is the wallowing going downstairs?"

I nod my head, "Better. I'm getting better at it."

"Okay…" looking like there is more to say, she simply presses her mouth into an attempted smile.

I return her attempt, then head downstairs.

Staring at the window, I text Jasper:

Yes. Let's get together this week.  
I. AM. FUCKED.

-Edward

I turn off the ringer and toss the phone. Though I didn't notice it before, in the ambient light of the surrounding buildings, I see the smudges on the window from Bella's pounding.

Taking Windex and a roll of paper towels from the kitchen, I return to the window. The pattern of handprints tells the story of her nightmare. They start low on the left side of the glass, a million distinct, overlapping handprints. She probably crawled from where the couch used to be.

On my knees, I spray the blue liquid and watch it roll down the glass, cutting through the evidence. I look to the rest of the window—the next handprints are high—she must have stood. They slide back down again. I see where she went from slamming her hands to her full arms. _Oh, Bella, how long were you in that nightmare?_

I close my eyes and begin to spray… high… low… everywhere. Blindly I wipe the window with the paper towels… I can't look anymore. I just want them to be gone.

With a hand full of wet towels, I open my eyes. _Yes, they are almost gone._ I stand and give one last, meticulous cleaning—no smudges, no smears.

I return to the kitchen and toss the empty bottle and towels away.

I fill a glass with ice, grab a bottle of Jameson Whiskey, and my iPod.

I put my feet on the coffee table and drink until the sores on my feet no longer sting.

I drink until the whiskey no longer burns.

It doesn't take much.

Hitting shuffle on my iPod, I hope the universe brings me something appropriate.

A steel guitar starts and Justin Vernon's soulful voice fills my ears. I love this song, but didn't know I had it on my iPod._ Did Bella put it on? Isn't this song depressing? _

_And I told you to be patient  
And I told you to be fine  
And I told you to be balanced  
And I told you to be kind  
In the morning I'll be with you  
But it will be a different kind…_

From my preferable vision, I see Bella descend the stairs. She curls up next to me on the couch and nestles her head on my shoulder. Gently, she pulls one ear bud from my ear, music fills the open air for a few seconds until she secures it in her own ear. As we listen together, I put my arm around her, and she stretches her hand across my body. Her fingertips run over my ribs in the calming rhythm of the song. She pets me like a wounded, stray dog.

When the song is done, Bella looks up at me and I remove the buds from both of our ears.

"Hi," she whispers as she scans my face.

"Hi."

She continues to glide her fingertips over my ribs and I am so grateful.

In that heart-shaped face of hers, there is compassion, beauty, knowledge, and strength. There is nothing to fear.

"Edward, there is something you want to tell me."

"Yes, Bella. There is a lot I want to tell you."

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N:

Soooo… someone very graciously nominated _She Gives Me Religion_ for a Sunflower Award in the Best Drama category. The Sunflower Awards recognizes fics with fewer than 1,000 reviews at the time of nomination.

www (dot) thesunflowerawards (dot) blogspot (dot) com

Please hop over and support these stories, authors, and reviewers with your votes.  
Voting ends May 25.

I know, I know… you're still pissed at me.

Next update, one week.

Thank you, Honorella for the song selection. Skinny Love can be found on my profile.


	16. Open

A/N

Thank you all so much for continuing to read and review—I am forever grateful to read your reflections and to see you to return.

Thanks to my hardworking team: robsjenn for research and pimping, orangeapeal for pre-reading, Elli-Iris for constant inspiration & The Twilighed Forum and PaintedTeacherLady & Sunshine for tag-team betaing.

Let's see how they are doing…

* * *

Chapter Sixteen  
Open

.

.

In my mind, I am walking to a podium in front of a large auditorium, but only Bella sits in the audience. The courage from my whiskey glass has blurred the edges of my senses, just enough to make this bearable.

"Bella, I… last night I, " shaking my head, I try to start again, "I… um," I look at her face, her beautiful doe eyes, and she's being so patient, there's no eagerness, no prodding, she simply waits. "I don't know where to begin… um… last night," I clear my throat, "the way I came after you… and the look on your face… and I've been… I don't know… and you're so good… and I'm so…"

"Edward… Edward…?" she softly interrupts my gibberish. "Can you… why don't we start someplace else? You've been trying to tell me something for a while now, haven't you, Edward?"

I nod, vigorously, and dry my damp palms on my jeans. _Okay, okay, we're going to start here._ "Yes… okay, last night my parents… um… okay… not last night… my mom and dad…" _Augh… I'm fucking this up._ I look to her for help, but I don't know what to ask for.

"Edward, I have a theory. Do you want to hear my theory?"

I nod, eager to finish this.

"I'm not the kind of girl your parents see you with; you're afraid to introduce us. And I can live with that, but I'm sure that's very hard on you…"

_No. How could she think that?_ I drop my head to my hands. "No… no, Bella. They're dead. My parents are dead and they would love you. They do love you."

"Oh, Edward."

Still using my hands to shield my face, I tilt my head back against the couch. I can't look at her hurt. I wait but she doesn't cry or yell anything… she doesn't even stop the gentle stroking of my ribs.

"You've been holding this in…? All this time?"

I nod, no longer able to find words.

"And you tried to tell me this last night, didn't you?"

"Yes… sorry," I push out strangled, insufficient words.

"Oh, my baby." Bella slides her other arm between my back and the couch and reaches around, fully holding me. "Oh course you couldn't tell me… you've been so worried about me… taking such good care of me. Oh, Edward, I'm sorry."

I tell her that I've been lying and she apologizes_—oh Bella_.

"Can you tell me about it now, Edward? I think you'll feel better if we talk about it now."

I nod again. My heart feels strong, but my mind is in chaos. Trying to find the chronology, the scenes play out randomly in my mind. I've dropped my speech. I've had all day, but I'm not prepared… I have no choice but to continue.

"My mom… my mom was hiding in the bathroom… and my dad… my dad, you see, my dad told them no one was home… and fuck_… _FUCK… I can't tell this story." The frustration in my head moves to my chest, my throat tightens… no, no, no… _I will not cry_.

"Okay, okay… can I ask questions?"

"_Please_." Questions I can do, everyone always asks the same ones. I feel Bella pull away from me and I risk a look to see her taking a drink of whiskey. She catches my eye and looks apologetic, then hands me the glass. I lock my stare into her eyes while I drink. As much as I search for it, there is nothing in her face that says she's hurt, rejected, or leaving.

Taking the glass from me, she turns to place it back down, and pauses, "Oh, Edward, your feet."

"Don't… they're fine."

Bella slides off the couch and kneels between it and the coffee table. She lifts my left foot, with my leg outstretched, and holds it against her chest. She is so small, that my foot takes nearly the entire length of her torso. _What are you doing, Bella? _I watch as she dips the shirttail of the pajamas into the whiskey.

"Bella, I…"

"Hush," she whispers as she examines the sores across the bottom of my toes. Slowly, she looks up at me through her long lashes and asks, "Ready?"

I nod.

"How long ago, Edward?" After she asks, she begins to blow on my toes and uses the whiskey-soaked fabric to wash my sores.

"Ten… " The word floats out with ease as I am transfixed, watching her.

"You were ten… no, it was ten years ago." Bella looks back up at me, "You were sixteen, weren't you, Edward?"

I nod.

I watch her cleansing me. The breath comes before the cloth, preventing the sting from ever occurring.

_Ask me how, Bella._

"Can you tell me how… can you tell me what caused their death?"

More breath, more whiskey.

"Gun… gunshots."

Closing her eyes, she loosens her hold.

And I start to fall… but she catches me, pressing my heel to her body, she reestablishes her grip. I dance on the edge of this night and that night—but I want to stay here, with her, my Bella.

She plants kisses on my wounds and places my foot on the floor. Picking up my right foot, she dips the shirt back into the whiskey and prepares to wash. "Ready?"

I nod.

_Let's keep going…_ _Ask me where, Bella._

Dabbing the cloth on the cuts on my heel, she quietly works it out on her own, "And your mom and dad… your mom was in the bathroom… the locks…" her concerned, chocolate eyes meet my stare, "Edward, there was a break in, wasn't there?"

"Yes."

_Ask me if I was home, if I saw._

"And you were home, weren't you?" I nod and close my eyes. Behind my lids, the visions become clearer, the sounds louder—my mother's crying, my father's begging. Bella covers my wounds with the wet top and my eyes spring open, the sting yanks me back; I have focus again. "Did you see, Edward?"

"No."

"But you heard, didn't you, Edward…? You heard."

"Yes," I say with my last bit of air.

Warm lips press onto the top of my foot, keeping me with her.

Placing my foot on the ground, she crawls back next to me on the couch. I close my eyes and focus on her hand on the nape of my neck.

"One more question?"

_Ask me if they found who did it._

I nod.

"Does it still make you cry?"

The question startles me. I start to shake my head, but stop… two weeks ago, the answer would be no, but now… I cock my head to the side. I hear Bella make sympathetic sounds. _Please don't pity me_. I feel my chest open up; I'm vulnerable, exposed. I turn my head away as I feel her leg slide over my lap; I feel her facing me. I stretch out my arms, afraid if I touch her right now, I'll hurt her with the force of my need.

"Edward," she whispers. _Damn it_… the story is over, I should feel better, but…

"Edward, look at me." _I can't… I try… but…_

"It's okay, you don't have to look, but listen." The sound of my scruff rubbing against her smooth cheek, her scent… a warm, slow breath on my ear, "_I Love You."_

I try. I try so hard to say the words I've longed to say, but they are lodged in my throat. I am only capable of ugly, choked sounds. My fingers dig into the couch, my chest hurts. _It's not fair._

"Hush. I know you love me. I've always known." And her fingertips are on my face and her warm breath is telling me, "Breathe, Edward… breathe with me."

And I do.

"You're safe."

_I'm safe._

Soft lips brush my ear, as she speaks again, "And _God loves you_."

_She knows._ Her words break down a wall I've spent the day building. Finally, I look at her. There is no pity here, only understanding. More strangled sounds crawl out of my mouth. _I've missed her today; I've missed God, too._

"Hold me Edward, I won't break… _hold me_."

I don't have the strength to stay away from her anymore.

My arms wrap around her body; she's so slight, I feel I could wrap them around two or three times. Though I'm sure I'm crushing her, she doesn't protest, but simply presses my cheek into her chest. And she rocks me, so gently, she rocks me… and I let her.

"Tell me what hurts the most, Edward."

"I… I did nothing. I hid… I listened… I did nothing…"

"Oh, Edward."

"And I can run fast…" my words are childish and simple; it is all I have. In my mind, I hear a gunshot and my body seizes as it did on that night. And I feel the sound that followed painfully tear through me.

"Edward, come back to me." I open my eyes and nod as Bella holds my face in her hands.

"What are you thinking?"

"I could have… I could have saved one of them, but I still couldn't move… I don't even know who… who was first. Oh Bella, one of them had to watch the other die."

"Okay, okay…" she brings my head back to her chest, and begins her rocking again. "Of course you couldn't move" one hand glides from my head to my back and she reminds me, "breathe, Edward."

And I do.

"You were a terrified boy. Please, forgive that boy. Please."

I pull away, and look up at her, "Last night… I hurt you last night and I'm so sorry."

"You didn't hurt me, Edward. You could never hurt me. I was startled… for a moment, frightened… but you stopped, right? Even though your mind was far, far away, you still stopped." I blink up at her, and she continues, "I'm going to be… no _we're_… we're going to be more honest about what our bodies and hearts want and don't want… okay? We can do that, right?"

I nod. "Bella… Bella, I love you. I love you so much." I watch her eyes fill with tears. Throwing her arms around me, I feel her kisses and tears on my neck as she says again and again, "I know, I know you do…"

With a hand in her hair and one on her back, I begin to rock her.

Our bodies moving together ignite a feeling deep in my core. I begin to swell and it feels so wrong, but so right. I try to pull her away, move her down my lap.

"Edward," I look away, feeling ashamed, "this is okay," her hand stokes me between my legs. She repeats, "We're going to be more honest about we want and don't want."

I nod, but continue to avert my eyes; she maintains her stroking and searches my face. I yearn to tell her that I want to be inside of her, not because it is a distraction, but because I love her. Being close is not enough—I want to be inside.

As I search for the words, my mouth opens and I stare at her. So patiently, she waits.

"Green."

"Green," she breathes back to me.

Bella stands and reaches for the hem of my t-shirt, whispering, "Arms up."

I comply and lean forward as she lifts the shirt over my head. She sits back down on the edge of my legs and unbuttons my fly, one by one. She looks up at me and waits.

"Green," I murmur again.

I lift my hips and Bella runs her fingers between my hips and my boxers. She pulls my jeans and underwear over my thighs, my knees… and frees them from my feet.

I watch her unbutton the pajama top. It slips over her shoulders and drops to the floor. Gazing into my eyes, she slides off the bottoms and steps out of them. She stands in front of me, nude and unembarrassed. My eyes float from her soft, full mouth, to the curves of her breasts and waist. For the first time, I don't see her as thin and fragile, but strong, lithe, powerful. She is exquisite. The light from the skyline surrounds her body in warm glow like a halo. She is an angel, my angel.

"Beautiful."

She climbs back onto my lap and presses her warm chest to mine. Skin on skin, salve on wound.

In long strokes, I ghost my hands down her spine, over her waist, hips, and thighs. Removing one hand from around my shoulder, she reaches between us and wraps her hand around me. Pulling away, I look at her. In that compassionate face, I see a woman who would do anything I'd ask.

I need to hear her say it. "Tell me."

"Green." And I know from the sound of her voice, her need is as great as mine.

I lift her hips and she whispers, "I love you," before she sinks down onto me.

Bella presses her body to mine. I bury my nose into her hair and relish the feel of her nipples on my bare chest, her wet warmth engulfing me.

Lips drag along my jaw to my mouth and she kisses me. Her kiss says I'm safe, wanted, and good. As she lifts her hips and glides back down, we swallow each other's moans.

Bella presses her forehead to mine, her fingertips touch my face, and I hold onto her hips, needing to lift her again.

"Edward… I want to try one thing… stay very still… if it's too much…" her voice trails off, then she says, "breathe."

And I do, inhaling her sweet whiskey breath.

I exhale… and inhale, I want to move her over me, but I don't. We lock eyes, and I keep inhaling her breath… and exhaling… I surrender…

For a moment, my mind is blank, dark. Then, as if from a hole in floor of a small room, images float up. I see myself running along the train tracks; I let it go and it floats away.

I see Tanya, in bed with me, disappointed… I let it go and it floats away.

Carlisle meeting me at the hospital, seeing my new bedroom, praying in an empty church… each image, good and bad, emerges… then lifts out of my mind like a bubble.

I see my mom and dad, happy, laughing, alive. I hold on for a moment, but then I let them float away, too… until there is nothing… comfortable darkness…

… I have no body, no senses. There is no time. I am drifting silently, peacefully…

Warmth, there is warmth, and a small, but growing light in the bottom of my mind. The light is a vapor that surrounds me like a cocoon. It becomes brighter, lifts me higher. It is the white light of God, and Love, and Bella.

I swim in the happiness of light. Gleeful, like a carefree child, I dance and play in the light. It is Heaven… Nirvana… Bella…

She spasms, catapulting me back into body. _Ecstasy._ I detonate in a million little pieces. White light splashes with indigo—stunning. I fill her body with my soul as we buck and convulse and cry out our sounds of joy. We hold onto each other as we continue to climax, locking eyes as we shed our fear and simply experience. I breathe in new air and continue to pulse inside of her… our orgasms suspended in a never-ending loop. Slowly, we begin to descend, breaking in waves of euphoric aftershocks. And then we hold each other—slick bodies, covered in sweat, happy tears, and come—we hold each other.

~o0o~

"How long did you wait under the bed?"

Hours later, after a long bath, Bella and I lie on the center of the bed wearing underwear and my t-shirts. She asks questions and I am able to answer with little emotion. It is as if I am telling her someone else's story or about a movie I saw.

"I don't know how long I waited. The police report timeline said it wasn't long after they left, but it was a blur."

"What was it that got you out from under the bed? Gosh, I don't think I could ever pull myself out from under there."

"I kept watching the light under the bedroom door for footsteps. I mean… I knew they were gone. I didn't hear or see anything for… I don't know how long."

"Did you go in? Did you go into their bedroom?"

"Yes. Ultimately, that's why I got out from under the bed. I kept thinking, what if they're still alive? I could still save them… but really, deep down, I knew it was too late."

"So… you saw them?"

I nod as the vision of their bodies materializes my mind, as clear as if it happened yesterday. "Fuck, Bella… it was horrible… so much blood."

"Oh, Edward." She holds me tightly, pressing her face into my shoulder. I continue to stroke her hair as she speaks, "I know. Death looks nothing like it does in the movies."

"You saw, didn't you? You saw Mike."

"Yeah. He… um…" she shakes her head, and stares blankly. I can tell the vision is clear for her, too. "I guess he died in my lap, staring up at me."

"Oh, Bella… I'm so sorry."

"You're the first person I've told. Well, who else would I tell? It's not exactly good dinner conversation, is it…? It's strange… it's almost like you can see the soul leaving the body. There's a moment when you know the life is gone… you know?"

"Yeah, I do. They were… well their bodies were there, but they weren't… they were gone."

"What did you do then?"

"Well, apparently some part of my brain was working. I don't remember much, but I called the police from my parents' car phone. They didn't find me for hours… it was pretty late the next morning."

"Oh, Edward. Where were you? Where did they find you?"

"I was still in the car… curled up in the backseat of the car. At least that's what I'm told."

"Edward, you poor thing."

"Poor Carlisle and Esme, I was a fucking mess."

"Of course you were. How could you not be?"

I shake my head thinking about what Carlisle and Esme had to take on.

"And it wasn't just that night…" My voice trails off as I think about the devastating funeral followed by those months of self-imposed isolation and silence.

"Tell me."

"I felt so… guilty… guilty they had to take me on. They weren't family… I had no family. They tried to counter my guilt at every turn, but it tied me in knots. I didn't have baseball anymore; I had nothing to say to friends… everything pissed me off…"

"Wait a minute, why didn't you have baseball?"

"Oh, here…" I bring my hand to Bella's ear and wiggle my fingers like I'm playing scales on a piano, "can you hear that?"

"Yes, I can hear your knuckles sort of clicking." Bella looks up at me.

"I did that to myself… that night."

Bella continues to look up at me, "I'm listening." Her voice is soft; she must know this is hard for me. Her compassion begins my undoing and I feel a bubble of emotion rise. I clear my throat to gain composure. I have to tell her; I want to be completely open.

"Okay, so…" I scoot down further into bed and Bella moves closer, so her face is next to mine. "I'm under the bed and… listening to everything that's happening on the other side of the wall." I raise the back of my hands above us. "And tears are streaming… and I'm trying to find the strength to get out from under the bed so I can run for help. I've planned my route, I can run fast, but I'm paralyzed… and…"

From nowhere a sob escapes my throat and tears spring to my eyes. I sit up and cover my eyes. The tears disappear as abruptly as they appeared. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry, Bella."

"Oh, Edward." Bella moves so she is above me, pulling me into her chest.

"I'm such a pussy."

"No… no you're not. You are a man telling the woman you love about the worst night of his life; what would be the worst night of a million lives." She holds me for a moment, rubbing my back, and I let her; it feels too good to stop. "I _am _still the woman you love, right Edward?" _Thank you, God, for her sense of humor._

"Yes. But I'm still a little pussy."

"Have it your way, but you're my little pussy." She kisses the top of my head and I have to laugh as I look up at her.

"I know, that didn't sound right," she smiles down at me and searches my face. "Do you want to tell me?"

"Are you okay hearing this?"

"Yes. Yes I am."

I take a cleansing breath as Bella scoots back down to my side. I keep one arm around her as I continue my story. "I have this screaming voice in my head calling me all sorts of names, yelling at me not to cry… I can't make a sound, right…"

I shift my eyes sideways to her to see her nod, intently listening.

"But it's not really working; sometimes my… cry… is audible. And I swear my parents raise their voices so they can hide my sounds. So… I shove my hands under the wood slats under the bed…" I raise my hand again, "and every time a sob came," I take my other hand from around Bella and use it to pull my fingers back, "I'd bend my hands back. The pain gave me focus, stopped me from crying."

Returning one arm around Bella, I let out a long exhale and shrug; I don't know what else to say.

Bella sits up and takes my hand. She looks at it for a moment, and then proceeds to kiss each knuckle. "Did you break your fingers?"

"I… um…" I'm so mesmerized by watching her, I lose my train of thought. "No… damaged cartilage and ligaments… lots of physical therapy… but I didn't break them."

Bella presses her small hand against mine, her fingers barely reaching my second knuckles. I bend my fingers over hers, then slip them between, and hold her hand. She looks rapt as she turns our hands, bringing mine in for another kiss.

"There it is," she whispers.

"What?"

"Your scar." She trails the faint scar with her finger, "It's right here."

"I thought I was the only one who could see it."

"No. I see your scars, too."

Bella clutches my hand and turns her head away. I sit up so I can see her-eyes squeezed shut, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Hey, Bella. No tears, no tears for me, okay?"

"I'm trying not to, but what you went through, and you were just a boy."

"Come here." I lay Bella back down with me. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you. You're going through so much right now and I'm just adding to…"

"No. No, Edward," she looks up at me with tear-filled eyes. "These tears aren't because I'm overwhelmed or can't handle this; these tears are because I care about you."

I struggle for a way to lighten the mood. "Hey, you know what? There's a silver lining to these clicks. They add percussion to my piano playing."

"You play the piano?" She blinks up at me as I wipe away her tears.

"Mm-hmm."

"I love learning new things about you." Bella reaches up and gives me a kiss on the side of my mouth before resting her head in the crook of my neck. "You don't like playing anymore?"

"No. I do. Carlisle and Esme have a piano; when I'm in the mood, sometimes I go over there and play."

She peeks up at me, "Don't you want to have one here?"

I shrug, "Seems a little indulgent."

"Playing or buying?"

"Buying… buying a piano seems indulgent."

"But you… you have enough money to buy one, right?"

"Yes, I guess I do."

"Indulge, Edward, let yourself be happy."

_Maybe I should. _

"Besides, I would love to hear you play."

"You would?"

"Of course… especially if you play all depressing songs." She giggles and as I go to tickle her, she squeals for me to stop and turns away. Though I wait for her to turn back around, she doesn't.

"Can I ask you something, Edward?

"Of course."

Still turned away from me, I pull her against my chest.

"You went to physical therapy, but did you go to psychological therapy?" _Alright, God, she's opening the door; help me walk through._

"Yes, I did. And it helped a lot."

She nods and sighs. "Do you ever think about going back?"

_Me? Not where I thought this was going. _

"Um… no… not really. I went to the counseling center at U-Dub a few times."

She nods again.

"Bella, do you know what Posttraumatic Stress Disorder is?"

"Yes." She silences and I hold her a little more closely to prepare us both, but she speaks before I can. "That's what you have, isn't it Edward?"

"Me? Um… yes, I had it."

"You don't have it anymore?"

"I… ah, don't know… I don't think so." _ I need to turn the corner here. _"Bella… what um… do you think you should… have you thought about therapy?"

"I don't know… I mean," her voice sounds so scared, my heart clenches. "PTSD happens when you go to war or have a really traumatic experience like yours."

_Oh, my love. _

"Don't you think what you went through… what you're going through is traumatic?"

She shrugs, but I hear her sniffle. "I don't know if what's happening is natural grief or I'm… I'm really fucked up." _ Oh. She used the f-word._

"Fucked up, no. In need of some help…" I let it rest there for a few moments and I can feel her start to cry. "Don't be sad about this… it's okay… there's nothing wrong with getting help… Bella, come here." I turn her around and she buries her head in my chest to cry. "It's the nightmares… you can't keep having those nightmares." I rub her back in long strokes as she nods and sniffles.

With pink and brown eyes she looks up at me, "You know how you felt with Carlisle and Esme… that's how I feel with you sometimes. I feel guilty that I'm this mess."

"Oh, Bella… you are not a mess. Listen, when I met you…" in spite of our brutal honesty tonight, I carefully choose my words, "think about what you were wearing when I met you."

Nodding, Bella closes her eyes and I know she sees the memory as clearly as I.

"We had to know there were rocky times to come, right?"

In spite of her tears, Bella's mouth twitches as she holds back a smile and shakes her head. "A bride, still in her wedding dress…" she sighs, "covered in her groom's blood… sitting alone in the corner." She reaches up and glides one finger down my nose, when it lands on my lips, I kiss it and it falls away. "Edward," she shakes her head, "you saw all that and you took me on anyway… you sick masochist, you."

"Took you on? Bella, I fell in love." A pink blush warms her cheeks, and before she can dip her head, I lift her chin. "You make me laugh, you're smart and so kind… you accept me for the goofball I am… I love you, Bella." _Must start reading poetry so I can say this all better than I do. _"And getting some help is… I don't know… I just want you to be happy."

She wipes the last of her tears and nods. "I want to be happy, too… I want us both to be happy."

As she rests her head back down, her little hand rubs my stomach in soft circles. "Really, Edward, it's why I didn't quit my job. I knew I might need the health benefits… for therapy."

It takes a moment for what she says to sink in.

"You mean… you mean you don't love your job?"

She starts to giggle so I push the sarcasm further. "You mean, you don't _love_ working in the main office for Newton's Olympic Outfitters?"

"Stop," she says, her laughter increasing.

"You don't _love _tracking inventory?" I try to think of every mundane task she's told me about. "You don't _love_ ordering office supplies for each store? Processing returned damaged goods to the wholesaler?"

"Stop… stop," she's laughing harder now.

"But I know you _love_ when they get short handed and you have to go back out and work at the _cash register_."

"Edward, _stop_."

I start to tickle her and the squealing and laughter go through the roof, "Tell me you love your job, Bella…"

"No, no… stop… please…" She curls into a little ball, but my fingers still work into her side.

"Tell me you _love_ working there… tell me you love it."

"Stop… I hate it… I hate it."

I stop tickling her and get up on my knees as she catches her breath. Frustrated, shocked, and elated, I pull at my hair. "You hate it?"

"_I hate it_."

"Please use the f-word."

Bella tips her head back and shouts, "I fucking hate that job."

"Then _why the fuck_ are you still there?"

"Aren't you listening?" She sits up, sill laughing, and makes a big gesture with her arms, "_Benefits_."

"Jeez, Bella, money is not a concern."

"Do you have any idea what therapy costs without health benefits? I'd go through my wedding gift money in a couple of months."

"_I_…" pointing to myself in some stupid, grand gesture, "_I… I _can buy you therapy."

Bella starts hysterically laughing and flops back onto the bed, "Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? My quasi-rich boyfriend is buying me therapy?"

_You said, 'boyfriend.'_

"I mean, Edward, don't men with money buy their girlfriends plastic surgery or something, and you are going to buy me therapy?"

"Yes… damn it… yes, I will buy you, _my girlfriend_, therapy."

"But not a piano?"

"Alright, I'll buy a piano, too. We'll go on a happiness buying spree."

She shakes her head and sighs, pulling my hands. I flop back down onto my stomach. "Listen… let me look for another job first. I really want to pay for this on my own… and if I don't work, I don't know what I'll do all day."

"Wait, let's separate these things out… one thing at a time. Therapy, Bella… now… okay?"

Breaking our eye contact, she looks down, as if she is admitting failure and says, "Kay."

I lift her chin, "It's a good thing."

She repeats back with less enthusiasm, "It's a good thing."

"I want you to meet Jasper this week…"

"No, Edward, please I do not want my therapist to be my boyfriend's…"

"No, no, no, he won't be your therapist, he _shouldn't_ be your therapist. Just a consult… you'll talk and he'll recommend a few doctors who would be a good match. Alright?"

"Alright."

"And as far as the job goes… why don't you quit? Take some time off; give yourself a breather. You'll find something else down the road or you can just wait until grad school in the fall."

"I'm no good with idle time on my hands. I'll sit around and read all day."

"So, read… and you can… you can help Alice. She's going to have physical therapy, doctors appointments, she'll need you, Bella."

"I know. I've already told Mrs. Newton that I need to be flexible with my hours…" Her voice trails off. Patiently, I wait while Bella mulls it over. "Yes… let me think about this."

"And then, when Alice gets better, we can… we can go on vacation." This might be the best idea I've ever had. I look at her with what I imagine is the expression of a little boy. "Let's go on vacation."

"Vacation?" She sounds skeptical, but props herself up on her elbow and waits for more.

"Yes… have you ever been to Europe, Bella?"

The way she laughs tells me that the answer is no.

"Well, let's go. We'll pack light, buy what we need along the way… travel from country to country, for as long as we want."

"Oh, Edward… I've always wanted to go to Europe." Oh, she looks like she's buying into it; she really wants to go.

"What do you want to see, Bella?"

"Everything," she breathes, her soft brown eyes gazing into my mine.

"Where should we start?"

"Assisi," she says without hesitation, surprising me by her choice.

"Really, Assisi?"

"Yes," she says like a little girl revealing her secret wish.

"St. Francis," it occurs to me.

She nods and whispers back, "St. Francis."

"We'll start in Assisi." Bella strokes my cheek with one finger, until she reaches my scruff and rubs it with the back of her hand. Her face falls and she smiles sadly, shaking her head.

"How could we? It's not responsible… you have seminary…" she smirks, "Reverend Masen."

I flop onto my back, across the bed and rest my head on her stomach, staring at the ceiling. Now is as good a time as any. "Bella… ready for more revelations?"

"Depends, revelations as in, 'I'm about to tell you something,' or as in, The Book of?"

"The former."

"Hit me."

I take a deep breath. "Bella, I don't know if I'm going to be a minister."

"Really?" I peek over to her, to see a face full of surprised curiosity, but not judgment.

"Really. I'm not sure if I want to be a minister or if I'm doing it for the right reasons." I peek again, but her expression hasn't changed. "I might go back to… um… grad school for my PhD in Clinical Psychology." _Even as I say it, I sound like an idiot… forever a grad student. _

Waiting for her to speak, I dare another look. Brows are to her hairline and her mouth hangs open… _Okay, she's surprised_. I cover my eyes with my forearm. _My parents are murdered, no big deal… but this… _

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't be so surprised. So, you'll be a therapist?"

I nod.

"Yes, I mean, of course… I can see it… therapy… ministry… you'd be great at either."

I sit up, propping myself up on my elbows. I think there's something she's holding back. _Preacher's wife? Therapist's wife? Grad student's wife…? Again?_ _Oh_. _Is that it?_ I decide to hold my tongue.

I sigh, lie back down, and return my arm to my eyes, "I don't know what to do; I change my mind every day."

"Are there deadlines we need to worry about?"

_You said, 'we.'_

"Sort of. Right now I'm on the ordained track at the seminary. I can get my MDiv without ordination, but the curriculum is different and I really should decide before the end of the Fall semester."

"How does the curriculum differ?"

"All the time I spend with Carlisle… funerals, weddings, hospital hours… all of that stops."

"But you love that part."

"I know," I shrug.

"Do you still want the MDiv without ordination?"

"Yeah. I could finish it up this year while I apply for my PhD. It's hard to stay on top of the coursework sometimes, but I really do like the classes. Besides, what would I do all day?"

I look up at her smirking at me. "There might be an opening in the main office of Newton Olympic Outfitters," she says, bending down and kissing my forehead. "The answer will come," she says with a quiet certainty.

The sound of chirping birds outside makes us both laugh. She strokes my hair, looking down at me and says, "Good morning, Dr. Masen."

"Is that your preference?"

She shakes her head and her grin widens across her face. "My only preference is to be with you."

I close my eyes and float in the feeling.

"You need to sleep, Edward. I slept yesterday, you didn't."

I look up at her, "I'm not tired."

"Well… we could get breakfast and see if we can bring Alice home early."

"Breakfast?" There is no hiding my hope.

"Yes, aren't you hungry, Edward?"

"Yes, I'm starving. Do you want me to make you something?"

She shakes her head, "Nope… diner… diner breakfast."

"Oh, that sounds good."

"My treat."

"Oh, no. That little stunt you pulled for lunch…"

Bella starts to laugh. "Did you like that? Sue and I planned that out _days_ ago. The only person who hates being treated more than you is my father. It would have ended in a blood bath."

I move so I'm lying next to her, turned towards her. "You are a bad girl," I say softly as I pull a lock of hair away from her face.

"Yes, I am."

"Should we go for breakfast now? Should we strike while the appetite iron is hot?" I ask narrowing my eyes, warning her not to lie.

"I'll be hungry later, too."

I nod and find my hand, with a mind of its own, running under the waistband of her lace panties.

My eyes follow the length of her body, her creamy, perfect skin.

"Bella, where did you read about tantric sex?"

"What's tantric sex?" Her voice is so innocent, naïve.

I bite the inside of my cheek, leaving me with a crooked smile. "Um… it's what we did earlier tonight."

"Oh. I didn't know there was a name for that."

"You just…?"

"I just did what was in my heart."

_No, she's not naïve; rather, wiser than I give her credit for. _

"Yes, Isabella, there is a name for what we did. We made love."

My hand slides down to the curve of her backside, I lean in, and give a gentle kiss her.

"Make love to me, Edward."

I slide my hand further down to feel her swollen, wet flesh. Between careful kisses, we undress each other. I lie between her legs and she wraps herself around me.

Bella rests her hands on my upper arms and as I slide my hands under her shoulder blades, the enormity of this weekend begins to sink in, for both of us.

"Bella…" there are no words.

"I know, Edward, me too."

"Ready?"

My question is met with a sweet smile. "You won't always have to ask, but thank you."

"Keep your eyes open," I whisper and sink into her.

So slowly, I rock out of her, and when I rock back in I tell her, "I love you."

And out and in, and she tells me, "Your eyes are so beautiful… I love your kind, green eyes."

And out and in, and I tell her, "Your scent grounds me, soothes me."

We take our time as our bodies move as one. After each gentle thrust comes a pause and an exchange of tender words. I say things to her I often think, but was too afraid to share.

Bella begins to stiffen around me and I move my hips in unhurried circles. "I know what you love," I whisper as she reaches the edge.

"I love _you_," she says as her body quivers.

"Eyes open." And I have the privilege of watching her release without any hiding.

Feeling her flutter around me pushes me higher. I begin to rock in her again, increasing my pace, slightly.

She reaches down and cups my backside, encouraging my movements.

"Oh, Edward… this ass of yours…"

I have to laugh; my chest is light. I am happy. We are happy.

"You make the best lasagna in the world."

"I do?" I love her ingenuous, surprised eyes.

I stop before telling her I've had a wet dream featuring her lasagna. _I'll save that for another time. _But the thought of it brings me closer.

"Yes, that's it, Edward."

"_Oh, Bella_."

"I feel it."

"You feel it?" I approach the point of no return.

"Yes, Edward… and I want to feel you come in me."

"_Oh, God."_

"Eyes open… _come for me_."

And I do.

I unravel in her presence, looking into her eyes.

I am safe, wanted, and loved.

~oo0oo~

"What in God's name happened to the two of you?"

"Good morning, Alice," I say with my best attempt at charm. Admittedly, Bella and I aren't looking too hot right now. Alice, on the other hand, looks fantastic.

Bella and I release each other's fingers long enough to give Alice a kiss on opposite cheeks.

"Well?" she asks, looking at Bella.

Although I expect Bella's typical, 'I'll tell you later,' instead she simply says, "long weekend. Don't worry your pretty head about it."

Alice narrows her eyes at me and I respond with a shrug.

"Fine, be that way." She sighs grabbing each of our hands, "Now, will you two please break me out of this insane asylum?"

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

A/N

As you can see, I am off of my every other week posting schedule. I wanted to get these chapters out to you as quickly as I could. Although I don't think I can keep up a _weekly_ posting schedule, I believe I can post more quickly than twice a month. Unless I hear major protests, I'd like to post whenever I can.

This Saturday, teaser. Next chapter, probably the end of the next week.

I would love to hear what you think.

Warm regards,

Liz


	17. Sharing Bella

A/N

Hello everyone. Thank you so much for continuing to read and review. Each review, story alert, favorite notice gives me much joy.

Thank you to the usual suspects, including orangeapeal for pre-reading and Sunshine for being my beta for this chapter.

I'm sending this chapter to you from a lovely room in Rome. A room I should be sleeping in, but I'm too jet lagged. Okay, enough about me.

I hope you enjoy…

* * *

Chapter Seventeen  
Sharing Bella

.

.

The elevator pings and the doors open.

"Thanks Edward, but I have it from here."

I walk behind Alice and Bella as we head down the corridor to their apartment. With the exception of more difficult areas, like ramps and bumpy sidewalks, Alice has insisted on wheeling herself without our aid.

"I am going to have fabulous shoulders by the time strapless season comes back around." I know Alice well enough now to see through her cheerful performance. In reality, Alice is tension on wheels. I've spent the morning watching Bella's careful way, using humor and compassion to buff away Alice's sharp edges.

"The doorknob moved," Alice says in a tight voice as we approach the apartment.

"It's a new doorknob. New locks, too. It's part of the changes we made. Look how easy it is to reach."

"And you don't mind?" Alice asks.

"Why would I mind?" Bella asks as she stretches out her hand to me.

"Oh, right." I take out Alice's key ring, with the inclusion of the new key, and hand them to Bella.

Bella hands her the keys, "Here you go."

As Alice unlocks the door, Bella and I exchange nervous glances for the one-hundredth time this morning. Alice struggles to open the door and maneuver her chair into the entryway.

"May I?" I'm grateful that Alice willingly accepts my help this time.

I wheel her into the living room and cringe at the lack luster appearance of the place. Although Bella and I planned for a spectacular homecoming, our long weekend relegated us to a rushed early morning decorating session using what we found at an all night market. The apartment is filled with every flower the market had, all half-wilted. Across the living room, we used ribbon to hang a sign we made using magic markers on paper plates—_Welcome Home Alice_.

We ran out of paper plates before finishing the sign, so the _c_ and _e_ in _Alice_ squishes together on one plate. At least each letter is adorned with Bella's colorfully drawn butterflies and flowers. We curled the remaining ribbon and taped it to the ceiling hoping it would look like streamers or the end of helium balloons, but we have no balloons. On the dining room table, we have a plate of Alice's favorite, raspberry croissants from Le Panier. It is our only success.

Standing behind the chair, I have no way to gauge Alice's reaction but through the reflection on Bella's face.

"Oh, Alice." Bella's expression melts and it doesn't take long before she is on her knees holding a crying Alice.

"You two did this for me…? You're so talented."

Although I smile, I don't think Alice even intended the irony—she's truly touched.

"I'm so happy you're home," Bella says wiping away Alice's tears with her hands. I give Alice a handkerchief and she tilts her head back, looking at me.

"Thank you, Edward."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you're home, too." I lean down and kiss her forehead.

She sniffles as she looks around. "Are those raspberry croissants?"

"Yes," Bella says bringing the plate to us. "You eat and we'll give you the grand tour." We each take a croissant, _man, these are good_, and continue on.

"Let's see… okay we'll start in the bathroom."

I wheel Alice in and, "Oh, no… the bathtub is gone."

"It's okay, it was a lousy little tub anyway."

"And Bella and I were talking," I interject, "I have a great bathtub, whenever you want a bath come over to my place. You can soak all day if you want."

"Thanks, Edward."

Bella shows Alice how easy it is to wheel into the shower area—it is now more of a shower area than an actual shower. I think it's pretty cool. "And look at this new shower head Alice, it's extra long…" _And I'm out._

Turning bright red, I wait in the kitchen so Alice and Bella can discuss the virtues of showerheads in private.

They come into the kitchen and Alice's mouth drops in surprise. "It's a whole new kitchen. It's bigger, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Your galley kitchen was too narrow, so we had it widened. You lost a little of the dining room, but not much."

"Everything is so… _short._ Short counters, short cabinets… _short_."

"I know, isn't it great?" Bella asks.

"Great? You mean you don't mind?"

"Stop asking me if I mind." Bella opens the utility closet and points to their folded up step stool. "We can finally retire this thing. You know we couldn't reach a darn thing in this kitchen before. Now the whole place works better… for _both _of us."

"You know, we could have moved instead of redoing the whole apartment." Alice looks so small in that chair. Everything about her, even her voice, is contrite.

Bella kneels by her side and softly says, "I think you and I have had enough changes for one month, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do, honey… thank you."

"And look at this," Bella says more brightly, "Edward made this calendar for us."

They turn their attention to the poster-sized calendar held by magnets to the refrigerator door.

Alice examines the calendar as Bella explains. "You see… he made it all color-coded. We have down your physical therapy appointments, follow-up exams… who's taking you when and where. I'm in pink and Edward is in blue. The yellow ones are still up in the air. If we can't do it, we'll call the service your parents arranged to pick you up."

"Wow, it's a lot of carting me around." Alice says to no one in particular.

"It will be like we're in college again. We'll get to spend so much more time together."

"Okay." Alice's voice is barely as whisper.

"And Edward got you a present. It's in your bedroom."

"You got me a present? On top of all this?"

"Mm-hmm." I try to hide my excitement.

Bella wheels Alice into the bedroom and I tell her about my little gift. "I know you're going to be working from home for a while and I thought you might need a new desk. It's um… special made." I show her the features of the desk, "You see the file cabinets and drawers and whatnot are easy access… and all of the cords come up through here so they're hidden, but easy to reach. And I had them make a different set of legs, so you can have it this height now and I can change it for you later when you're no longer in the, um, wheelchair. I set it up in here, but I can set it up out in the living room or dining room if you want."

I watch while Alice runs her hand over the smooth wood. "It's a beautiful piece of furniture… Edward, come here."

I kneel down by her and try to read her wide eyes. "Is it okay?"

"Okay…?" she shakes her head and holds my face in the palm of her hand. "Edward, it's so special… _You're_ so special. Thank you, my friend." Alice gives me a great hug; just like the ones she's been giving Bella.

"I'm glad you like it," I say, still trying to hide the full extent of my joy.

"Bella, he looks so cute right now."

"I know. That's my favorite expression… well, one of them."

"Okay, you two. Stop it." _But only if you want to._

"Oh, and he blushes?"

"Yep, he blushes."

"Okay, okay, enough."

After we finish the tour, Bella tells Alice, "I almost forgot. I'm making us your favorite dinner tonight."

"You are…? Politically incorrect food?"

"Yes, I'm making you veal."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she says kissing Bella's hand.

"I'm sorry I didn't even ask, is that alright with you, Edward?"

I have no idea what she is asking and therefore, have no idea how to respond. _Is it okay that she's making a baby cow? Do I like baby cow? Yes, I do. _Or, is she telling me that it is dinner for two. _Is this my hint to back away now that Alice is home?_

"Yeah, no problem. I have so much to do today… and tonight. Um… why don't you give me a call later? You know… after dinner."

"What?" Bella's brows shoot up.

"You have to come back for dinner." Alice says.

"Are you really too busy? I hate to be pushy… if you can't come I'll pack you a din-"

"No, no. It's okay. I can come back for dinner."

Both of their bodies relax and I'm sure mine does too.

~o~

I make it back to my condo, walk right past my office, and stagger up the stairs to my bedroom. _Please Dear Lord, let me get something accomplished today. Don't let me sleep too long. I have so much reading to catch up on… people to call… papers to write…_

My body hits the bed with a slight bounce and I immediately fall off to sleep.

I wake with a jolt… _What time is it?_ _Did I miss dinner?_ I look over to my alarm clock and see it is only 1:43. A short, but powerful, nap. My head and body still ache from the weekend. A hot shower and a pot of fresh coffee lift some of the fog.

I look over my things to do list and decide to start with returning messages.

My heart stops when I see the four most recent texts are from Bella, but I breathe relief when I see they aren't urgent.

Edward,  
You just left.  
Is it silly I miss you already?  
Love,  
Me

Edward,  
Alice refusing to go  
out 'in public.'  
This is going to be interesting.  
Love,  
Me

Edward,  
The idea of veal  
makes me both sad  
and hungry.  
Love,  
Me

PS-I'm crushing sedatives  
into Alice's dinner. Driving  
me CRAZY.

Edward,  
You know I was kidding,  
right? I LOVE her.  
Love,  
Me

I feel like a teenager with each text I read.

Dear Me,  
I have no idea  
who this is, but  
you should know  
I am off the market.  
Madly in love with my  
GIRLFRIEND.  
Respectfully,  
Edward

I adore the word 'girlfriend.' I don't know if we're too old for that word, but I like it anyway.

_No more procrastination. _I have other contacts to make.

I leave a message for Jasper: "Hey Jasper. Yeah, I'll explain that text later. Let me know if you're free tonight to talk, maybe get together. Give me a call."

I might not get invited to stay at Alice and Bella's after dinner. Maybe I can visit Jasper.

After listening to Carlisle's voicemails in response to yesterday's dinner cancellation, I leave him a voicemail. "Hi Carlisle, it's me. Please don't worry about it, you were right… too many untruths. I had to come clean. Things are good now. I'll see you on campus tomorrow."

_Okay, one more quick look at text messages._

Edward,  
You have a girlfriend?  
What a lucky,  
lucky girl.  
Love,  
That Girl

That Girl,  
Starring Marlo Thomas?  
-E

She responds:

Dear Phil Donahue,  
You watch a lot  
Of old TV on cable, don't you?  
-Marlo

MT,  
Old pop culture junkie.  
-PD

Mr Donahue,  
That is reason 146 why I love you.  
-Marlo

As I sit here grinning like a fool and thinking about my next text, Bella sends another.

Edward,  
Tho I want to do  
this all day, you have  
work to do, don't you?  
Love,  
Me

Me,  
Didn't you mention  
something about  
a ruler once?  
Love,  
-E

E,

GET TO WORK.  
So you can hurry back  
over as soon  
as you're done.  
Love,  
Me  
PS-  
I haven't  
forgotten about  
Halloween

I push myself away from my desk and do a happy dance around my office as I sing a little song: _Thank you God, for Bella. Thank you God, for Bella. Thank you God, for Bella-I'm such a happy fella._ I'm so glad no one can see me right now.

I catch sight of my things to do list and sit back down. _Okay, help me to focus—I have three articles to read and a rough draft to edit before going back to Bella's. _

~o~

"The table is set, what's next?" I clap my hands together in anticipation, hoping to get another job to do.

"Next, you get to sit here and keep us company." Bella says with Zen-like concentration as she cuts away the sharp leaves of an artichoke.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

_But I want to help._

"Alice, can I help you make the salad?"

"Not a chance. I have waited over two weeks to get my hands on fresh food, the salad is mine."

"Stillness is good for the soul, Edward." Bella says as she reaches the tender heart at the center of the tough leaves.

"Are you going to put those hearts in with the veal?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Have you ever thought of using canned artichoke hearts?"

"Sure. I'd never snub my nose at a canned heart. But this isn't an ordinary dinner. My Alice is home." Her voice is soft, musical. She never looks up while she speaks, rather, she continues her methodical, gentle way. "It's the little details that make it special."

Alice opens a drawer to search for something and, without even looking, Bella reaches for a nearby vegetable peeler and hands it to her.

"Thanks, Bella."

By watching her cook, I see the essence of Bella. Making people feel loved. Attending to their needs, knowing what they want before they ask. Requesting nothing in return. Quiet, simple, selfless love.

Bella notices my stare, looks up and gives me a shy smile. She doesn't ask what I am thinking, but I think she knows.

I wasn't home when she made my lasagna and my mind wanders to what she looked like while making my dinner.

"Alice, have you ever had Bella's lasagna?"

"It's to die for."

"I know. Bella, can I have the recipe? I'd like to make it sometime."

She smiles; I'm sure she knows my real question. _Did you make it special?_

"The recipe, let's see… A couple of jars of spaghetti sauce… oh, a pound of meat—whatever is on sale, a pinch of Italian seasoning, ricotta, parmesan… and be sure to use the noodles you don't have to boil first, it's a lot easier that way."

"Hmmm… sounds pretty easy. I'll whip some up for us this week."

Her smile widens and I ask, "Tell me the truth. Your own sauce?"

"Mmm-hmm," she nods and begins to blush as she continues her work with the artichokes.

"Fresh tomatoes?"

"Maybe."

"What else, tell me." _Tell me how special it was. Tell me how special I am._

"Okay… let's see. Fresh herbs, never dry—rosemary and basil. A little béchamel sauce, the ricotta is creamer that way. Only Parmigiano-Reggiano…"

"Beef?"

"No. Beef, pork, and veal."

"What about the noodles."

"What about the noodles?" _I love when you're being coy._

"No-boil noodles?"

She giggles and shakes her head, "No, I boiled the noodles."

"What else…?" _You're holding something back._

She shrugs and turns a deeper shade of pink, "I um… made the noodles."

"You made them? From scratch?"

"Mm-hmm."

_Thank you God, for Bella. Thank you God, for Bella… _

I'm singing in my head as I go over and wrap my arms around her waist and kiss her temple and ear and hair… She laughs and tilts her neck to give me better access for a few more kisses, then gestures towards Alice. I stop the kisses, but still give her a long back-to-front hug before letting go.

Dinner is spectacular. _My girl can cook._ The artichokes taste like lemony love. I could eat a lot more, but I don't think either of them realizes my capacity for food. For the most part, I stay quiet and listen to them chat away, imagining what it would be like to grow up with sisters. They talk about shopping—_a lot._ Bella seems to be using a shopping trip to lure Alice out in public, insisting that she needs her help picking out new clothes.

After dinner, dishes, and coffee are finished, I wait for an invitation to stay, but it doesn't come.

I decide to pull the trigger and use my exit strategy. I stand and say, "Well, I have a bunch of errands I have to run tonight… so, ah, I guess I'm going to head out."

"You're coming back later, right?" Bella asks and I shift my eyes to Alice to gauge her reaction. She doesn't look disappointed by my invite back.

"Um… I could, sure, only if you both want me to."

They exchange glances; it's one of their wordless conversations that happen in the blink of an eye.

"Edward, sit down for a second, you're giving me a neck cramp." I sit back down. "You didn't think you were going to get the boot when I came home, did you?"

Although I want to refute this idea immediately, I'm working on my honesty. "No, I um… I know you two have… well, I'm sure you want time alone together. And I don't know how you feel about me…" I look over to Bella and feel my embarrassment rising, "about me sleeping over—sometimes, not all the time."

"Edward," Alice sighs and gives me the same maternal look she gives to Bella, "you're part of our tribe, our clan, you aren't going anywhere."

"Your tribe?"

"Yes, sweetheart, it's like a baseball team."

I laugh, "Yes, I know what a tribe is… I'm… I'm glad to be part of it."

I look over to Bella and realize she's been holding her tongue. This message needed to come from Alice.

"Good, because I was going to ask you to stay as a favor to me. I'm not used to this chair yet, and I'm a little worried I won't be able to get out of bed on my own. I'd like to have you two around if that's okay."

"Yeah, yes, of course… I knew Bella would stay here, but if you want me too, yeah, that would be… I'd like to do that."

"Thank you, Edward. It won't be forever, just until I get used to it."

"As long as you need, Alice."

"Good. That's settled," Bella says while walking over to me. She kisses the top of my head. "I'm sorry you have errands to run; Alice and I are going to start re-watching _The Gilmore Girls_ tonight."

"_The Gilmore Girls_? Yes, I definitely have errands to run."

"Edward, stop pretending you're so macho. Have you ever seen _The Gilmore Girls_?"

"First, Ms. Brandon, I am not _pretending_ to be macho, I _am_ macho… Okay, both of you stop laughing."

"Sorry." I look up to see Bella is biting her lip. _Great, my girlfriend doesn't think I'm macho. _After this weekend, I shouldn't be surprised.

"And second, I didn't watch _The Gilmore Girls_ because I watch sports… ESPN…"

"Because you're macho?" Alice teases.

"Yes, because I am macho."

"Okay macho man," Bella gives me another kiss on my head, "no _Gilmore Girls_ for you."

I get up and grab my keys. "Do you two need anything while I'm out?"

They exchange hopeful glances and Bella asks, "Ice cream?" _Yea! My girl is eating._

"Sure, what flavor?"

"Um… anything would be fine… whatever you choose." I think I'm finally able tell when Bella's holding something back.

"Oh, okay, anything? So… plain chocolate or plain vanilla?" Her expression is pained.

"Um, yeah, those would be okay."

"Bella is lying," Alice interjects, "anything but chocolate would be fine, Edward."

"Neither of you likes chocolate?"

"No, we both love chocolate, we just don't like chocolate ice cream," Alice clarifies.

"Okay, so no ice cream with chocolate." I can work with this.

"No, no, no. We love chocolate _in_ ice cream, we just don't like chocolate ice cream. In fact, we like ice cream with lots of stuff in it, including chocolate." Bella says.

"What kind of _stuff_?"

"You know, nuts, chocolate, cookies… salty sweet is always good." Alice says.

"You know, like pretzels and caramel," Bella says.

"But not just fruit," Alice says and Bella nods.

"No fruit?"

"No, we like fruit, but not if it's _just_ fruit; it needs other things, too." I'm tying to follow, as Alice continues, "To be honest, _I _like just fruit… like black raspberry for example, but Bella only likes fruit if there's something else with it."

_I think this was on the GRE._

"Okay, I think I've got it." I start to head out.

"Do you want us to write all of this down?" Alice asks.

"Nope," I tap my head, "it's all up here." _Wait… Do you really like my vanilla milkshakes, Bella? _"What about plain vanilla?"

They both sigh. _Uh-oh._ Alice is the first to speak, "Look, we don't want to bore you with our whole philosophy on plain vanilla, but let's just say if it's plain vanilla, with nothing else in it, it should be vanilla _bean_."

"The little black specs?" They both nod. "If it has other stuff it doesn't need the bean, but if it doesn't, the _bean_ _is_ the stuff?"

"Exactly!" Alice looks proudly at me.

"Really Edward, get us any flavor you want," Bella smiles.

"Okay, plain chocolate it is," I say, heading for the door.

"Get out of here," Alice laughs.

"Wait." Bella runs over to meet me at the door and stands on her toes; I bend down so she can whisper in my ear, "Do you feel like we're using you?"

"Yes," I whisper back to kid her, but she's too gullible to continue. "I'm teasing. Even if I did, it would make me happy."

"I like your vanilla milkshakes even without the bean."

I narrow my eyes at her. "How did you know?"

"I know you better than you think." Her expression changes, "Well, at least I thought I did."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you _really_ believe I'd push you out when Alice came home?" I hear the hint of disappointment in her voice. If the roles were reversed, I'd feel the same.

I give her question serious consideration, "No… I guess not, deep down."

"Okay. Keep listening to the deep down," she says running her finger over my abdomen. I consider dumping my pretend errands to stay, but then I'd have to confess to the fib.

"I will."

"I love you, Edward Masen."

"Thanks, Isabella Swan." I wait for her to squirm for just a second before saying, "Oh, yeah, I love you too."

She slaps on the arm, "Get out of here."

"See you later." I give her a swift kiss and call out, "Bye Alice."

"Bye, honey."

As quickly as I can, I head downstairs and jump into my car. I take out the small notebook I keep in my glove box for emergency things to do lists and write down all of the ice cream requirements.

_Now what?_ Call Jasper.

~0~

"Hi Edward."

"Hey, Riley. How are you doing?" I head to my typical seat on the far end of the bar.

"Terrific, as always. Black and Tan?"

"No. Not tonight, just a Coke."

"I thought you looked a little hung over."

"Still?"

"A little. A bartender always knows." He leans in and inspects my face. "Let me guess, Jameson?"

"You have a gift," I sigh. He ignores my order and instead pours a ginger ale.

"Just one hair of the dog," he says as he adds a small splash of Jameson.

"Thanks." I roll my neck around in a slow circle and take out my notebook while I wait for Jasper.

The first list is titled, "_Bella's Therapist Needs_." I brainstorm the list, then go back and add numbers to prioritize:

_1-PTSD_

_4-Eating Disorders_

_6-Divorce_

_5-Body Dysmorphic Disorder (possibly?)_

_3-Emotional abuse/romantic relationships_

_2-Bereavement_

The Ginger and Jameson is half gone and I'm already feeling like a new man. I start my second list, "_Edward's Things to Do List October-18-2010:_"

_-Be more macho._

_-Let Bella do things for you._

_-Don't get sad when Bella and Alice need girl time. _

_-Ask if you can turn on ESPN so they know how macho you are._

_-Have boy time with Jasper._

_-Introduce Jasper to Alice._

_-Have boy and girl time with Jasper, Alice, and Bella._

_-Propose marriage at Christmas, engagement one year. _

Maybe New Year's Eve will be more romantic. We'll always have something to celebrate. I think that over. _Too soon?_

_-Propose marriage this summer—at a baseball game-engagement six months. _

How long does it take to plan a wedding? Will Bella want another big wedding? Probably not. What will Bella want…?

_-Don't get mad when Bella wants to keep her own name. _

That's going to be hard. I start to doodle different names in the margins, but they quickly fill the page:

_Mrs. Isabella Marie Masen Swan_

_Dr. Edward Masen and Ms. Bella Swan Masen_

_Rev. and Mrs. Edward and Bella Masen, Esqu_

_Dr. Rev and Ms. Edward and Isabella Swan Masen_

My head hurts at the number of possibilities

_Mr. Edward Swan_

I draw a line through that one.

_Dr. and Mrs. Edward and Bella Masen_

"Don't let me interrupt you."

"Oh, hey, Jasper." I flip the page of my notebook, wondering how long he's been there.

"Hi Jasper." Riley greets Jasper and refills my ginger ale.

"Hi Riley."

"Manhattan?"

"Yes, thanks." Jasper loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button of his shirt; he looks beat.

"Did you have a session this late?"

"No. I came from the hospital, I had to admit one of my clients."

"I'm sorry, Jasper."

"Thanks. He stopped taking his meds and he…" Riley returns with his drink and Jasper stops his story. I watch Jasper down half the Manhattan in one swallow. He shrugs, "Well, you know… what can you do?"

Jasper was born to be a therapist—his gift for reading people's emotions astounds me. But under that cool exterior, he absorbs too much. _God, please protect Jasper. _

"So," he gives me a firm slap on the back, "_you are fucked_?" He repeats my text message back to me. "Sounds like you two had an interesting weekend." _I don't want to burden him._

"Yeah, you know… things are better between us now. We can talk about it another time."

"Come on, Edward," Jasper grips me between my neck and shoulder, "let me feel useful." There is a need in his voice that I can't ignore. "Did she hit a wall this week?"

"Yes, she did. She had a fucking crazy nightmare Saturday night and just… lost it."

"Really? Has she been having nightmares since she came back?"

"No. Only one."

"Anything strange happen that day?"

"Well… her father came to Seattle for a visit…" I look into his clear blue eyes and start to stammer, "and um… and…"

"And?"

"And I was a total dick to her that night," I confess.

"Really…? Were you _really _being a dick or are you just being hard on yourself?"

"No," I grumble, "I was a dick." Jasper nods and I slide him the paper with Bella's list on it, "Here, this is for you."

He opens the folded paper. "PTSD? Body Dysmorphic Disorder…? What is this?"

"I'm not sure about the Dysmorphic Disorder, but it's a list of things her therapist needs to specialize in."

Sliding the paper back to me he says, "Thanks, but I think this should come from Bella."

"She's going to call this week and make an appointment."

"She already did."

"She did?" _Why didn't she tell me?_

"Ahhh…yes. She made an appointment with my secretary and I called back to check in."

"So… so you talked to her? How did she sound?"

"Fine. Good. We're meeting Wednesday morning," he says warily as he finishes his drink.

"Did she cry?"

"Edward, stop. You know I can't talk to you about anything we discuss."

"What time did she call?"

Jasper lets out a long sigh and gives in. "She called late, around 4:30. She sounded good, a little nervous but, but no more than what would be expected. Satisfied?"

We haven't been alone since then—only enough to have that quick conversation in the doorway-maybe that's why she didn't tell me.

"I think I should go to her appointment with her."

"What?"

"You know, in case she forgets to tell you something."

"Edward, don't do this to yourself…" Jasper slaps my back again and squeezes my shoulder. "You gave her the little push she needed, now let her do this on her own."

_Did she tell him I gave her the little push?_ My mind begins to go wild with possible topics of conversation they might have had.

"Maybe I should have one of my partners take the appointment."

"No. No, please. I trust you; I want you to do it. I'll be… I'll back off."

He finishes his drink and nods. "So, are you ready to lose fantasy football to me again this season?"

We stare at each for a moment; he wills me to let the topic change without any more argument and I give in. "Don't be too sure of yourself, I have a much better team this year. You got lucky with Aaron Rodgers last year…"

Without asking, Molly brings out two bowls of their Irish stew for us while Jasper and I argue about changing the point system of our league next year. After an hour and a few Manhattans for Jasper, we decide to call it a night. I offer Jasper a ride home and he gratefully accepts.

"I have to hit the head, be right back," I tell him and go to the bathroom.

I text Bella:

Heading back soon.  
I forget, was I supposed  
to bring something with me?  
-E

An immediate response, _boy she texts fast_:

Macho Man-  
Don't tease when it comes to ice cream.  
Looking forward to talking later.  
I called Jasper today.  
-B

_Yes!_ I fist pump right there at the urinal. I'm glad the place is empty._ I knew she'd tell me._

I practically run back out to Jasper, I'm so eager to see her. "Ready to go?"

"No… sorry, I have to go now," he cocks his head towards the bathroom.

I sit down to finish the last of my ginger ale as I wait.

"Hi there." _Oh, fuck._ It's her—the red head scary lady and she's talking to me. Before I can respond, she's sitting on Jasper's empty stool. _When did she get here?_ My heart begins to thump and I'm sure the whole bar can hear.

"Aren't you going to say hi? It's only polite to return someone's greeting." Her voice is deep, thick with sin.

I try to pitch my voice low to counter the high sound I fear I will come from my mouth, "Hello." _Good, that sounded deep. Please God, make Jasper hurry up. _I try not to look at her lips, eyes, hair… She's wearing lots of gauzy layers of clothes and sparkly things, I'm sure all intended to hypnotize.

"You and your friend are alone tonight." It's not really a question.

"Yes." _Still sounding deep, good._ I'm beginning to sweat. _Why why why does she make me sweat?_

"And where's your little girlfriend?" _She saw?_ _She remembered._ There's an unfamiliar mix of feelings—but mostly, there's anger—'_little girlfriend?'_ I don't like the word on her lips.

"My _partner_ is home." _Yeah. I bet Bella would like the word partner_.

"Oh," she mocks my indignation, "is that how you like it? She stays home and you go out with the boys?"

I feel my face getting hot.

"Oooh, someone is angry with me." Her voice is sweet but her smile is wicked. She reaches up to touch my clenched jaw and I jerk way, showing my weakness. "Aww, don't be scared of me. I don't bite… much."

"I'm not scared of you." And I'm not. I'm not because I live in a bubble of love... Okay, maybe I'm a little scared. I stand and go for my wallet while she scans my body and face with her feline eyes.

"Yes you are," she breathes to herself. "If you were mine, I'd keep you on a very tight leash." Lucifer takes the stirrer from my ginger ale and chews on the end with her plump-lipped mouth.

"Good thing I'm not yours. I don't like leashes. We wouldn't pair well." _And, yes, I know what you meant by leash._

"So what do you like?"

_Bella and Jasper and Jesus…_

"Wait don't tell me… you like mousy little girls who make you feel tough and strong."

It's like a punch in the gut. "Excuse me?" _Horrible come back._

"I'm sorry, that was mean. I only tease you because I like you… Edward."

_Edward? FuckFuckFuck. _I finally notice that the figure standing behind her is Jasper, gaping at me. I reach into my wallet and pull out the crispest bill I can feel, hoping it's a hundred, and throw it on the bar.

"And I _think_ you like me, too."

"No, I'm sorry. Forgive my manners, but that is where you are wrong, so, very, very, wrong. I am going home now." I can't manage the stinging insult I want, but at least my voice sounds as cold as I feel.

Before I know it, Jasper is ushering me out of the bar. "Was it a hundred?" I whisper.

"Yes, keep moving."

Her voice hits me on the back of my head, "_What a waste_." I freeze, but Jasper's hand on my back pushes me forward.

"Fuck," I say as soon as we're out of the bar. I rush to my car as if she's going to come after us.

A million better comebacks and insults fill my mind as we drive to Jasper's. "'My _girlfriend_… my girlfriend is waiting for me all right… she's waiting for me tied up, spread eagle on my bed. _That _is how we like it.' That's what I should have said."

"Nooo you shouldn't have. Edward, slow down, put on your seatbelt."

"You should put on _your_ seatbelt."

"It's already on."

"Oh." Even drunk, Jasper is more rational than I.

"Why, Jasper? Why do women still scare the shit out of me?"

"Women don't scare the shit out of you. _That _woman scares the shit out of you, and for good reason. She would scare the shit out of Genghis Khan."

"Did she scare you?"

"Not a good comparison. I have much more experience than you."

"So, you're stronger than Genghis Khan?"

"When it comes to women…" His voice trails off and he shrugs.

I pull up to his condo and I'm no longer thinking about the scary lady; I'm thinking about Jasper and how I'm going home to Bella and he, like me for so many years, is going home alone.

"Hey, Jasper, do you want to… I don't know, go out for another drink or," _she'll kill me for this but_, "come over to Bella's with me?"

"No, I'm good, thanks buddy," he says wearily as he puts his hand on my shoulder. "I want to get to the hospital first thing in the morning."

"Okay. Don't forget to check your calendar for Wednesday." He looks confused. "Remember… Alice… lunch."

"Right, right," he waves his hand dismissively, "lunch… Alice. Give me a call tomorrow to remind me."

"I will. Take it easy."

"You too, Edward."

Jasper ambles into his building, tie in one hand, briefcase in the other. _Hi God, ready for operation matchmaker? _

~o~

I place my bag of goodies on the kitchen counter. Seeing Bella again obscures any darkness from earlier tonight.

"What did you get?" Alice calls from her position stretched out on the living room couch.

"All sorts of good stuff." Bella says as she takes each item out of the bag. I watch, hopeful. "Bacon and eggs, good bagels…"

"You two made dinner, I'll make breakfast."

"He got Chunky Monkey…"

"Ooh. Good choice. Fruit, chocolate _and_ nuts," Alice calls out.

"Peanut butter cup…"

"Thank God. We realized you left without us mentioning peanut butter."

"I figured it falls under salty sweet."

"You have a smart man there, Bella."

"And he got a bag of pretzels."

"Good for dipping," Alice says.

"Some fancy-schmancy gelato brand I never heard of… black raspberry."

"Aww thank you, Edward."

"And a vanilla bean."

"What brand?"

"No, not vanilla bean ice cream… just a vanilla bean."

"Paula Dean taught me how to get the specs out."

"You went overboard Edward, you really shouldn't have." Bella says and gives me a sweet kiss.

I take out three bowls and ask, "What kind would you like, Alice?"

"What do you mean?" They both start to giggle.

"We mix," Bella says. I guess I still have a lot to learn.

"Go sit down, Edward. I'll make the ice cream. Do you want one kind?"

"No, I'll have what you're having."

After ice cream, the nightly news, and one check of the scores on ESPN, Alice announces, "Kids, mama needs to go to bed." Bella and I go to Alice. "Bella, can you hold the chair and Edward, I'm going to do this on my own, but I'd like you to spot me."

"Sure, I'm right here."

Bella moves the chair up to the couch as Alice pulls herself up to a sitting position. Watching her struggle makes me want to pick her up and carry her to bed, but I refrain. She moves her hips until they are at the end of the couch, reaches back to the chair and begins to pull herself onto the chair seat. She almost makes it when, "Damn it," her hands slips and I catch her.

"I got you." I pull her onto the chair.

Alice finally snaps. "Getting in and out of this fucking chair is the first thing they taught me at the hospital and I still can't do it right."

"Stop that," Bella sits on the couch in front of her and I step away. "You're home... You are out of that hospital bed. You are out of that brace and you are _mobile._ I know you are frustrated, but you never let yourself have a learning curve. Look at all you did today… you unpacked, set up your office, did laundry, took a shower, rearranged the kitchen cabinets … Alice, you've been running around all day…"

"I can't run…"

"Okay, you know what I mean… smart ass. Alice, be a little easier on yourself. Please. Give yourself some time to get used to this, alright?"

Alice nods and looks at Bella with doleful eyes. "My arms are really sore."

"I bet they are. Will you let me wheel you into your bedroom?"

"Yes."

Bella starts to push the wheelchair; when I follow, she stops me and subtly shakes her head.

For a few minutes, I stand outside the door incase I'm needed. I eventually give up and wash the ice cream bowls and wipe down the kitchen counter.

Bella comes back out of Alice's bedroom looking exhausted and asks, "Do you want to say good night?"

I go in to find Alice in her pajamas tucked snugly into bed with her turtle. Bella's doing, no doubt. "Hey, how does it feel to be back in your own bed?"

"Mmm. So good. Bella tried to get me to nap today, but I was a hard head."

"You, a hard head? Get out."

"Yes, a hard head. Well, maybe even an ass. Be extra sweet to her tonight, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll be extra sweet to her tomorrow."

"Good idea."

"Edward, thanks for being here."

"I didn't do anything."

"Yes you did, you always do."

I move her bangs away from her eyes. "Alice, I'm signed up to take you to PT on Wednesday morning. How about we go to lunch afterward?"

"You mean in public?"

"Yes, public." She stares at me for a while. I can almost see her convincing herself she's up for the challenge. When she gives a small nod, I push it one step further. "Maybe we can meet up with Bella and my friend Jasper."

"Oh, Edward… no, I'm sorry. I've been thinking about this whole set up thing. I'm really not ready. I think we should wait until I'm out of this chair."

"Hmm. Why is that? Because I would have a dickhead for a best friend? Because you are less charming and witty in the chair than you are out of it?"

"No," she rolls her eyes, "I'm still great."

"Then what are you afraid of?"

Alice's voice turns serious again. "He sounds like a really good guy… and I haven't met one of them in a long time. What if… what if he's the right guy, but it's the wrong time."

"It's not… And, I don't know, maybe I've built this up too much. You don't have to marry the guy; let's all just have lunch together. No big deal. Bella and I want our best buddies to know each other, that's all, okay?"

"Okay," she whispers.

"Good." I lean in and give her a kiss on her forehead. "Good night, Alice."

"Good night, Edward. Don't forget to say your prayers."

"I won't."

_Operation match maker in effect. Thanks, God._

I close the door behind me. _Finally, time alone with my girlfriend_. I find Bella sitting on the kitchen counter with her head hung low. She looks like she could be asleep.

I stand between her legs. "Did you get to nap today?"

"No."

"Sounds like a rough day." She gives me a sleepy nod. "Shuffy shuffy?" She nods again, eyes closed. "Wrap."

Bella wraps her arms and legs around my torso and I carry her to our bedroom as she mumbles on my neck, "I can walk."

"I know, Bella."

I strip down to my boxer briefs and help half-asleep Bella pull on her t-shirt. I guide her into bed, curl myself around her, and blow in her ear.

"Out, out bad dreams."

Within seconds, Bella begins to purr.

"I talked to Jasper today," she murmurs, surprising me.

"I know, how did it go?"

"I'm sorry no hanky-panky."

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry I don't have pretty things to sleep in."

I realize she's talking in her sleep. I take it as a gift.

"I'm sorry I'm too scared…"

I wait, but she doesn't continue.

"Too scared for what, Bella? "

"Oral."

"Shhh. It's okay. No more sorry… happy thoughts."

"Alice came home… I love Alice… I love Edward Masen."

"Edward Masen loves you."

"Mmm." I peer over her shoulder to see her smile in her sleep, a heavenly sight.

I kiss her temple. "Sleep my Bella."

.

.

.

.

.

.

You now have my lasagna recipe—which I learned during another trip to Italy a few years ago. If you follow me on twitter, you'll see pics of my European travels with my pocket Saintward. Yes, I am a grown woman carrying around an Edward doll with wings attached. Not normal.

So, Alice and Jasper meet next chappie… do you think they'll like each other? Is that a stupid question?

I'd love to know what you think.

Ciao, Bellas!


	18. Awkward

A/N

Buon giorno!

I'm still in Italy and will be heading to London tomorrow. I'll be back in the states at the end of the month. I love reading your reviews! Thank you for the well wishes.

Thanks to the usual suspects, especially Sunshine, for beta'ing this chapter.

And away we go…

.

.

.

* * *

Chapter Eighteen  
Awkward

.

.

"Edward, I can still see it from here; move it back a little further."

Twisting around in my seat, I check the visibility of her wheelchair, folded and hidden by the children's highchairs on the way to the restrooms.

"Alice, if it was any further away, it would be in the kitchen."

"Can we arrange that?" She asks with a hint of ruefulness, knowing she's being a pain in the ass.

"No. Alice, Jasper knows you're in a wheelchair. I don't understand what you're trying to do here."

"He might know I _have_ a wheelchair, but he doesn't have to see me _in_ the wheelchair."

"Alice it's fine where it is. Why don't we order something to drink while we wait?" I hand her the folded, laminated menu.

"No beverages for me; I don't know what I'll do if I have to go to the restroom."

"You'll go to the restroom," I say as I scan the menu.

"Why did we come here? A diner? Really? I usually don't like diners." _Dear Lord, grant me patience. I know she's nervous, but she needs to relax or operation matchmaker will be a disaster. _

"What's not to like? Breakfast anytime of day." _And none of your favorite places are wheelchair accessible, but you don't need to know that right now. _

"I guess you're right. This place isn't that bad. It looks familiar; I must have been here before."

As much as Alice's anxiety is wearing on me, at least she's distracting me from my own pensive thoughts about Jasper and Bella's meeting this morning. _What are they talking about? God, don't let her forget to tell him something._ I pretend to read the menu, glad for Alice's surprising silence.

Again, I go over my list: PTSD is the top priority; surely she knows to discuss that. Eating has not appeared to be a problem over the past two days, since Alice has been back. I'm still curious about the details of her parents' divorce. Though Bella doesn't talk about Mike, his death must be in her constant thoughts…

"Edward?"

"Huh?" I'm too distracted to look up.

"Edward?"

"Yes, Alice?"

"You're as worried as I am, aren't you?"

I look up to find wide, sympathetic eyes. "Worried?"

"You're doing the jaw clenchy thing," she says gesturing to her jaw with her slender finger.

I unclench and rub my fingers against my jaw, feeling the tension I'd been holding there, the dull ache in my molars and wisdom teeth.

Alice lets out a long exhale and places her menu down.

"There's nothing to worry about, Alice. We're just having lunch together…"

"No. I'm not talking about Jasper. Bella."

I put down my menu. This conversation was going to happen sooner or later. While I conducted hospital hours with Carlisle last night, Bella told Alice about her meeting today with Jasper. Though I don't think Bella shared the gruesome details of our weekend together, Alice at least now knows of Bella's nightmares.

"Bella will be fine. Jasper is just talking to her to help select a good therapist. There's nothing to worry about." My voice in nonchalant, far from how I really feel.

Alice presses her lips together in a line and audibly exhales through her nose.

"Edward, tell me what she didn't tell me. How bad has it been?"

I try to keep it abstract. If Bella doesn't want Alice to worry, I want to respect her wishes. "I don't know. She had a nightmare or two, not a big deal."

"She's so private," Alice says, almost to herself. "I wonder what they're talking about."

_Ditto. _

"And they're late, too." Alice asks with her face in her hand, elbow propped on the table. "What time did the appointment start?" she asks, gazing out the window.

"They're not late. We're very early. Remember? Someone wanted to get here early and hide her wheelchair—I'm not naming any names…"

Alice rolls her eyes at me, but it ends in a grin. "Alright, point made. Let's order a drink—wait, that's them. Here they come…"

We watch as Bella and Jasper come down the street together. Slightly over two weeks since we met, the sight of her still makes my heart beat faster, louder. I wonder if that will ever change.

Jasper wears a sharp, dark suit and Bella is in a black trench coat, jeans, and it looks like a pink sweater under the coat. There is a spring in their step. Jasper says something that makes Bella laugh and he puts his arm around her shoulder as they continue to walk and talk. _You like her, don't you Jasper?_ _I told you she's something special._

As they walk up the steps to the front door, I notice again how tall Bella can appear at times, in spite of her height. Today, she is tall; she is happy.

"Edward," Alice whispers as they walk through the door, "how do I look?"

"Gorgeous," I tell her and I mean it. I now know that the Alice in the hospital was a grey shadow of the woman sitting across from me. Her short hair is glossy, her eyes sparkle, and her skin is a warm blush.

Bella and Jasper both wave as they approach our four-top table. I stand to greet them.

"Hi gang," I say taking Bella's small hand and lacing her fingers in mine. "Jasper, I'd like to introduce you to Ms. Alice Brandon." I think they will both like the formality of the introduction. "Alice, this is Mr. Jasper—"

"You've kept me waiting for a long time."

I snap my head to Alice, but she doesn't break her stare at Jasper. _No, no, no… why are you being rude? They're not late, we're early._ My head snaps back to Jasper.

Jasper smiles down at her and takes Alice's hand, "I'm sorry ma'am."

_Noooo. I told you the whole Southern gentleman thing wouldn't work on Alice._

I look back to Alice, then again to Jasper… I can't read either of their expressions. They just keep staring at each other. Bella is doing the same… back and forth… it's like we're watching Wimbledon.

_Ok, Alice… ask him to sit._ Ask him to SIT. For the love of all things holy, Alice, ASK HIM TO…

"Why don't we all have a seat?" Bella intercedes and ends the awkwardness.

I change seats so that Bella and I sit across from each other. She bites her lip, as nervous and confused by their reaction as I. Subtly, I shrug, but it doesn't need to be subtle, neither Jasper nor Alice have averted their eyes from one another.

"So, Jasper…" Bella begins. _Good, take it away, Bella_. "Alice is in public relations."

"Public relations. That sounds interesting." Jasper's voice is flat, impassive.

"It's fine." Alice sounds… I don't know… bored? I've never seen her lack some sort of expression; her lips are pressed in a firm line.

_Jasper, now ask her a follow up. _

I wait, but he says nothing. _What the fuck?_ The little I know about talking to women came from him.

Bella looks as confused as I and tries again to get this going. "Oh, it's more than fine. Alice, you love your work. Jasper, Alice promotes new bands in the Seattle area."

"That's interesting." _Again with the 'interesting.'_

"It's fine." _Aughhh._

"Alice, Jasper here is a therapist," I say with artificial enthusiasm in an attempt to get this going.

"Yes, I know."

_Well, that went over well. _

"He has a gift; he's very easy to talk to," Bella says and I no longer care about operation awkward; I only want to know about Bella's session.

Looking across the table at her, I raise my brows, asking her for some sort of message. Bella slowly closes her eyes and gives a single, heartening nod. I relax… a bit.

Opening the menu, I try to move this along. "So what looks good to everyone?"

Bella and I turn our heads back and forth between the two, but neither of them opens a menu. They simply continue to stare.

"Well, I think I'm going to have a burger. Bella, what about you?"

Bella glances at the menu for a moment and says, "Um… cheese sandwich for me."

A cheese sandwich can't be a good sign.

"I _like_ cheese sandwiches," she responds to my narrowed eyes.

I try to read her; see if there's something else she's hiding. Then Bella mouths an admonishing, 'don't worry.' I continue my glare. Then, quite surprisingly, her eyes soften and she blows me a kiss.

Though I try to hide it, a half smile creeps up.

"Alice what are you having?" Bella asks.

"I don't know. What are you two having?" Alice mutters absently as she continues her stare down with Jasper.

"I'm having a burger and Bella is having a cheese sandwich." I tell them again since they are in their own bizarre world.

"Mm-burger. Sounds good," Jasper says in a husky voice like he hasn't eaten in days.

"Yeah," Alice breathes, "burger."

"Well, that's settled." I roll my eyes at Bella and she stifles a laugh and shakes her head, bemused.

After I place our order with our server, I excuse myself to go to the restroom.

Bella jumps up, "I'll come with you."

Briskly, we walk down the corridor to the restroom.

When we're out of ear-shot, Bella says, "Alice is _never_ like this. I'm sorry… I have no idea what's going on."

"_You're_ sorry? I thought they would be perfect together."

"I'm getting ready for her to leap up and scratch his eyes."

"I know."

"Edward, are we just talking or do you really have to go?" Bella gestures towards the restroom door.

"I have to go."

"Good, me too. Meet you back here."

Bella turns to go into the restroom and I grab her arm and pull her back to me. "I miss you," I say, taking her head in my hands. I kiss her with the urgency of a teenager approaching curfew. Not caring who sees, I hold her still and explore her mouth. Bella reciprocates—twisting her tongue around mine. Her hands slide up my arms and she holds onto my shoulders for dear life. I glide one hand down her body and snake my arm around her waist locking her securely against me. Soft, sucking lips begin to pull away before she opens her mouth and invites me in again. It is the best kiss we've had since Alice came home. Too afraid to make sex noises in their little apartment, there's been little hanky panky since the morning before we picked up Alice, two days ago. The kiss sends a jolt to my groin.

Bella breaks our contact and says with a breathy voice, "I miss you too… Now go think about baseball and meet me back here in a minute."

"Tonight… we have to find a way." I say still holding her, desperation in my voice.

"I know; we will."

I release her and she playfully brushes her hand over the soft bulge in my jeans. "Down boy," she teases before disappearing into the restroom.

After replaying my baseball errors in my mind, I meet Bella out in the corridor.

"Edward, we need a plan to save Alice and Jasper from any more suffering."

"I'm open for suggestions."

"Well… Alice hasn't started talking about her niece yet, but that's coming any minute now."

"I'm lost."

"Whenever Alice needs saving from a conversation or wants to leave a party, she starts talking about her niece. It's our code."

"What if Alice _wants_ to talk about her niece?"

"Alice doesn't have a niece."

"Oh," I laugh. I love knowing this stuff, being one of the girls. _No I don't-must be more macho_.

"When she talks about her niece, you get the wheelchair and I'll- " Bella freezes as she catches sight of something over my shoulder. As I turn to see her vision, she grabs my shirt and pulls me against the wall, behind the payphones, with her.

A few yards from us, we see Jasper retrieve and unfold Alice's wheelchair. Bella and I exchange shocked expressions. When we see him roll the chair out, we hunch down and quietly follow. We peek around the corner to see an image that blows both of us away: Alice looks at Jasper with wide eyes as he leans down, and she wraps her arms around his neck. With expert gentleness, he scoops her in his arms and, after blinking down at her for a moment, places her in her wheelchair.

Operation matchmaker—mother fucking success. _Thank you, Lord. Sorry about the f-word. _

Bella and I stagger out to meet them. It's their turn to read our expressions and stifle laughs.

"Bella, Edward, I hope you forgive us, but Alice and I thought we'd take a walk together," Jasper says, clasping the handles of her wheelchair as Alice looks up at him.

Jasper takes both of my hands in his, slipping me some sort of bill, and says with great sincerity, "Thank you for the introduction."

Bella and Alice end some sort of silent conversation.

"Bella. It was a pleasure meeting you; I'm sure we'll talk soon." Jasper leans down and gives a peck on her cheek.

"Thank you, Jasper." Bella reaches up and pulls Jasper into a tight hug and he reciprocates her strength and warmth. She whispers in his ear, "Really, thank you so much."

Alice looks up and winks at me. Still completely thrown by the turn of events, all I can do is shake my head at her, amused.

They turn to leave and Bella calls out, "Alice, do you have your cell phone?"

"Yes, mom."

"You'll call?"

Jasper turns around and says with quiet earnestness, "I'll look after her."

As they go through the door, Alice lifts her hand in a final good-bye.

Bella and I stand, dumbfounded, until the server brings our three burgers and a sad looking cheese sandwich on soft white bread, just the way Bella likes it.

Bella and I finish our lunch while dissecting what happened. We conclude that they must have wanted to be alone together from the minute they met.

"Do you have to go back to work this afternoon?"

"Considering I've only been in one day this week, I think the answer is yes."

I stand and offer my hand. "Let's walk."

We stroll out of the diner, our hands swinging slightly between us.

"No class today?"

"No. I have to go to the hospital again tonight with Carlisle."

"I think I better put your schedule on Alice's calendar."

I rub my thumb back and forth over her knuckles. Even the skin on her hand feels like velvet. Not wanting to interrupt her eating, I've waited to ask about the session today.

"So, you like Jasper?"

Bella gives a small laugh. "Like him...? Yes. He's a very special guy. I'm glad he's your best friend."

"The session went well?"

Bella nods, watching our feet as we walk. I squeeze her hand a little tighter. And after a few moments reach into my pocket.

"Here," I say giving her a penny, "this is for."

"A penny?"

"For your thoughts."

She smiles and shakes her head. "Sorry, I don't mean to be so elusive… The meeting was very good. A little embarrassing at first."

"How so?"

"I started to cry the moment I sat on his couch." Bella continues to stare at our feet as we walk. I let go of her hand to wrap my arm around her waist and pull her into me. Her head falls on my chest and she lets out a small sigh.

"That's common. Did Jasper tell you that? It's very common for people to do that."

"Yes, he did. It stopped almost as quickly as it started. I think I just felt relief for being there." Bella looks up at me and I give her a kiss on her soft lips.

"Did he suggest a therapist for you?"

"Yes. There are a few that would be a good fit. I'm going to snoop around about them on the interwebs before I make a decision."

"Always the investigator."

"That's me."

Soon, we reach the block that houses Newton's Olympic Outfitters flagship store and main office. The store windows, taking up about half the block, displaying buff looking manikins sporting hiking apparel and carrying oversized backpacks. _Yep, I even hate the manikins. _

"Do you want to come in? I'll show you my swanky office."

"You have an office?"

"No," she laughs, "I call it my office, it's really a little desk in the corner."

I open the door for her. "You probably won't get to meet many of the office staff. Most folks will still be at lunch."

"Hi Bella." A tall, middle-aged man, wearing khakis and a polo, calls out to her from behind the cash register.

"Hi Bob. Busy day?" The store is bustling with people.

"I'll say."

We continue to stride through the store and head straight for a door on the back wall.

"Is this where all the magic happens?"

"Try to control yourself, it's a palace back here," she says wryly.

Bella opens the door and we walk through to find a large space, big enough for a small store, lit by florescent overheads. It seems to serve as both an office and storage.

"It's not always this bad, we just got some inventory in." I follow Bella through a maze of boxes. "Our desks are back here."

Before I can take it all in, a booming woman's voice reaches out to us. "Hello, Bella."

"Mrs. Newton," Bella breathes. I turn in time to see the blood drain from Bella's face.

From an area behind a stack of boxes, Mrs. Newton emerges. I have to check myself to make sure I'm no longer holding Bella's hand.

"Mrs. Newton. This is a surprise. It's… so good to see you." Bella recovers and finds her voice again. It is the first time they've seen each other since the funeral.

"I needed to stop over today. We're looking at rearranging the merchandise on the main floor," she says to Bella as she shifts her eyes to me.

"You remember Edward," Bella says, looking nervously at me.

"Of course."

I reach out and shake her hand as she eyes my suspiciously. "It's good to see you again, Mrs. Newton." My mouth dries and I pray for some words to smooth out the situation. "I was… Bella and I… I was just checking in on Bella."

"I see." Her voice is as tight as her stare.

"Well," Bella says, walking towards her, "it really is nice to see you." Bella gives Mrs. Newton a hug that is reciprocated in, what I assume to be, Mrs. Newton's best ability. But it is still a pretty weak hug, more of a pat on the back than an embrace. After the hug, Bella walks the few steps back over to me. It is as if she and I are teammates standing across some imaginary line from our opponent, Mrs. Newton. _That's right, Bella, we're a team. _

"How long have the two of you known each other?"

_What?_

Though her voice sounds casual, I know what she is really asking. She wants to know if there's merit to Mike's accusations of Bella cheating.

"You know I met Edward the same day you met him," Bella says in a cold voice. _Wow._ I look down at her to see her eyes filled with a mix of indignation and fortitude.

"Mrs. Newton, will you excuse us for a moment?" Bella doesn't wait for an answer; rather, she grabs my elbow and rushes me towards the door.

With her back to Mrs. Newton, Bella says in a barely audible voice. "Drug store, next door."

I nod.

"Virginia Slims ultra light menthol," she over articulates each word.

I nod.

"Meet me in the alley."

I nod again, wishing I could wink or say something, but we're still in view of Mrs. Newton, so I simply hold Bella's gaze for a moment, then leave to fill her requests.

I'm on my second cigarette when I hear the quick clicks of Bella's high heel boots.

Stretching out her hand as she turns the corner she says, rushed, "cigarette, cigarette, cigarette." I hand her my cigarette and watch as she takes two quick puffs without inhaling.

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, I cannot believe that just happened..."

Fueled by a clear shot of adrenalin, she paces back and forth, pretending to smoke, as I light myself another cigarette twisting with anticipation.

"Well…?"

"I think I sort of told her off."

"You did what?"

"Well, not really told her off… but for me, it was telling someone off." She puffs again. "I went right up to her, right up to her and said, 'Mrs. Newton, we need to talk..."

"You quit, didn't you?"

"No." _Damn_. "But wait, let me finish. I said, 'Mrs. Newton, we need to talk. I am having a very difficult time, as I am sure you are having a very difficult time…"

"What did she say?"

"Shh, she didn't say anything… let me tell my story…" Bella says, amused.

I can't help myself but to grin at the vision in front of me: An elated Bella animating her story using the cigarette as a prop.

"'Mrs. Netwon,' I said, 'I need time to recover. And coming in here everyday, the constant reminder, is not helping me recover.'"

"I love the word recover."

"Me too; it's Sue's word."

I nod._ Thank you, God, for Sue. _

"And then I said, 'Mrs. Newton I've decided I need some professional help to aid in my recovery…"

"Good line."

"Thank you. I told her, 'but I can't afford that help without the health benefits of this job. And I can't come in here everyday if I want to get better. So, Mrs. Newton, what do you suggest I do?'" She puffs again, so I take my turn to speak.

"You left the ball in her court?"

"Indeed I did." I've never seen her so proud. My heart swells at the sight of my courageous woman.

"What did she say?"

"It's good. It's really good. I only have to come in a few hours a month, doing whatever I want to help out. That way, she can keep me on the books and I can keep my benefits."

"So, that's pretty close to quitting."

"Pretty close. She asked me to give her two weeks to find a replacement."

I don't want to burst her bubble, so I keep my happy face. But really, until this moment, I had no idea that coming to work had been so difficult for her. I wish she would walk away right now, but for Bella, this is a huge step.

She beams at me as she puffs again. I shake my head at her, still surprised by this turn of events, "What changed? Where did this come from? Was it your meeting with Jasper?" _Maybe me?_

"Yes… and no. Jasper and I talked a bit about me working here. But really, I think it was the way she looked at you."

"Me?"

"Yes. I don't like the way she looked at you, like you were some sort of lecher. You're my man; no one can look at you like that."

_I'm your man._ I like the sound of that.

"Isabella Sawn, were you defending my honor?" I'm both overjoyed and felling a little wimpy.

"Maybe."

"You are so tough." I say, knowing this is her favorite compliment.

"You better believe it," she says in a flirtatious way, then puts her cigarette out in a nearby trashcan. I follow suit and she proffers her hand saying, "Let's throw them all out."

_Nooooo._ "Okay." I hand her the pack, and she tosses them. _Good-bye girly cigarettes that I love so much. _

"You really shouldn't smoke that brand, anyway. They're not very macho."

"Ohhh. So now my tough woman is out machoing me?"

"Maybe," she cocks her head, "I'm pretty tough; I might be able to take you."

"_Take me_?"

Bella smiles and hunches down in a boxer's pose, hands up to jab.

"Oh, is that how you want to play?" I lean down and hold my hands up to block. We circle each other, locking our stare, both smiling. "You better be careful Bella, I'm quick."

"I'm scrappy," she says, reaching up and giving a quick jab that I block. I'm reminded of Bella in the woods and during her dream; she is pretty strong.

"So you want a macho man?" I ask, continuing to circle.

"I like macho every now and then," she says, then gives a quick body shot that connects. We both freeze and mirror shocked faces at her ability to land a little punch. We go back to circling.

"What time did you say you get off work?"

"I saved the best news for last, Mrs. Newton gave me the afternoon off."

I drop my hands and stand up straight. "Now you tell me?"

Bella laughs, "Afternoon delight?"

I reach out, grab her arm, and in one swift move, throw her over my shoulder.

She squeals and I give her a firm spank on her behind, "Quiet. You want macho, I'll give you macho." She laughs, so I know it wasn't too hard.

"Yes, sir," she says teasingly.

"_Sir?_" Where does she get this?

"You like?"

"Oh, Isabella, I have been called worse."

As I walk with her out of the ally, I freeze at the sight of Mrs. Newton leaving the store about twenty yards away. _Holy Fuck!_

"Edward… ?"

"Shhh…" I whisper, walking backwards with Bella into the alley. Fortunately, I'm sure Mrs. Newton didn't see us and Bella is still in the dark.

"What are you doing?" Bella murmurs.

"Nothing… I just wanted to put you down for a second so I could kiss you." I walk behind a dumpster, place Bella back down on her feet and lean her against the brick wall, my heart racing. Grabbing her hands, I lift them over her head and press my body into hers. I try for the most commanding, macho kiss I can manage. Invading her mouth, I explore every surface. I feel her breath on my cheek. Kissing in the alley feels dirty, and I like it. Keith Richards awakens.

I pull away and leave her panting. Leaning my forehead against hers, I ask, "Big bed or little bed?"

"Big bed," she breathes. I take her hand and glance around the corner as shrewdly as I can.

The coast is clear.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

A/N: Lemon coming next chapter-pun intended-about a week.

If you are so inclined, I have a little tumblr photo story of my trip through Europe with my pocket Saintward and Gracella. It is a chronological story, so you might want to go back to the beginning of the blog. You can find it at lizlemben (dot) tumblr (dot) com

Sooo… are these two ready for some playful sex? Will Jasper and Alice ever return from their walk? Will Mrs. Newton leave these two alone? What should I see in London? Should I stop by the Pattinson's for tea? I'll bring pastry.

I'd love to hear what you think.

Warm regards,

Liz x


	19. Backwards

A/N:

It has been almost two weeks since I last posted and I'm thrilled to be back. Thank you for your wonderful suggestions for London—it was an amazing trip.

Thank you to Team SGMR, especially orangeapeal for beta'ing this chapter.

We last left off with Alice and Jasper leaving the diner alone; a near-miss with Mrs. Newton; and Bella wanting Edward to be more 'macho.' Edward and Bella head home for some afternoon delight.

Happy Fourth!

* * *

Chapter Nineteen  
Backwards

.

Leaning my back against the door of our condo, I drink in the vision of Bella a few feet before me. Her breath quickens and I'm sure she's as hungry as I am.

"No word from Alice?"

"No. Not yet."

"Let's put her out of our mind. She's in good hands."

Bella slowly nods, lips parted.

"So, you want macho?"

"Yes," she breathes.

Oh, what I want to do with her, but I can't help but to think back to the last time I tried to be macho—blindfold, mirrors, and tears, only last week._ I take inventory: gentle love making, good. Macho man…_

"Edward, stop."

I focus back in on Bella.

"I'm good. I feel good. Please stop worrying."

_You can do this, Edward._

"You want to play?"

"I want to play." Her voice is husky. I watch her chest rise and fall with each heavy breath.

"And you'll stop me the second you get uncomfortable."

"Yes."

"Prom-"

"Promise," she murmurs.

"Let's get you upstairs."

I throw her over my shoulder and she squeals with laughter and relief. I spank her behind and she says in a thrilled but amused tone, "_Yes, sir_."

Bella giggles the whole way up the stairs and I plop her on the big bed.

"I love this bed." She says rolling around from side to side.

"I love you _in_ this bed," I say looking down at her from the end of the bed, catching my breath as I take off my shoes and socks.

She props herself up on her elbows. "So, what do you plan to do to me, macho man?" Her eyes shine with amusement and lust.

"You'll see… " _I have no idea, need a game plan._ _Decision, decisions..._ "First, strip for me," I command.

"Yes, sir." Bella pulls off her boots and socks, then sits up on her knees and pulls her pink sweater over her head. The movement is graceful, without a hint of embarrassment or shame.

She hands me her sweater and I fold it and put in on the chair behind me.

"Bra?" she asks.

"Umm, yeah," I say in a tone that makes the answer obvious; it brings on more of her giggles. _Good, this is fun… let's keep it fun._

Fixing her eyes on mine, she slowly removes her bra, unclasping the back then holding it up with her arms as she plays with the straps, pulling them down one at a time, giving me a show. When it is completely off, she raises her arms with a flourish and says, "I'm topless."

"Yes you are, and beautiful. Keep going." I notice my voice has dropped an octave. _Definitely more macho._

Bella unbuttons and unzips her jeans, showing a hint of her lace panties.

She stops and says coquettishly, "I might need help."

"I'm not offering any help." _Fuck yeah, I'm macho…_ _and it feels good._ _Too good?_

A smile creeps in one corner of her mouth as she sways her hips side to side, continuing her strip tease, pulling her jeans down to her knees. She leaves her panties on and lies down, moaning a little to add to the performance as she kicks off her pants.

I fold and place them down. "Sit back up." She crawls back up to her knees. "Stay there; just like that."

"Yes, sir." Bella smiles from ear-to-ear; clearly this is the game she wants to play.

"Where did 'sir' come from?"

"Alice's smutty romance novels."

"Hmm." _Must borrow novels from Alice._

I pull my iPod from my pocket, slowing my breathing, calming my mind and body, not wanting this time with Bella over before it begins. I walk behind her, dock my iPod, and scroll through the list.

_Come on, Masen… macho… think fast._ I go through the alphabetical order of artists… _ABBA? No. Alan Parsons Project? No. Bee Gees? Fuck No. Bruce Springsteen? Yes, The Boss is always macho. Wait… Bruce…? or Stones? Bruce, Stones, Bruce, Stones… Fuck it-she wants macho, I'll give her macho. I scroll to The Rolling Stones, "Gimme Shelter"… on repeat. _

The music begins to waft from the walls into the loft.

_That's right, Keith can come out. _

"Ooh. This is a sexy song… this place has the best sound system," Bella says, her back expanding in deep breaths.

I walk back to the end of the bed and look her over. Fuck, her nipples are hard… so hard, like my cock.

"Isabella, do you want me to stay dressed?"

"No, sir."

"Well?"

Quickly, she stands and walks over to me, wearing a silly grin, like she's winning the most important game of Simon Says in her life.

Clasping my hands behind my head, like a smug son of a bitch, I wait until she grabs the material of my shirt around my waist.

She pauses. "May I?'

"Yes." I try to keep a stern face, but it does no good. We both suck at role-play, breaking into smiles and stifling giggles the whole time.

Slowly, she pulls my t-shirt from my jeans. Though I can see her peeking up at me, I try to keep my eyes fixed on a spot on the opposite wall, above our bed. When she is holding the hem of my shirt, I unclasp my hands and bend down, allowing her to pull the shirt over my head.

Instead of folding the shirt, she tosses it behind her on the bed. The move leaves me gaping at her in mock horror.

"You are a bad girl."

"Yes I am. And I want to kiss these," she whispers, bushing her fingers over my nipples.

_Please, yes. _

"May I?"

"Yes," I breathe.

Opening her mouth, she lands the softest, warmest, wettest kiss over my nipple. The skin tightens and I feel it harden, transporting an impulse directly to my groin. She pulls away, looking at me, and blows on the circle of saliva; shivers reach my toes. My other nipple gets the benefit of her circling tongue. Her movements aren't gentle; she sucks and pulls at my skin. Blood pools in my cock.

_Who's in charge here?_

"I want to kiss this," she says dragging her finger over my happy trial. "May I?"

"Yes." Amazingly, my voice is still deep, husky.

Bella gets on her knees, _Lord help me_, and drags her tongue back and forth between my navel and the waistband of my boxer briefs. She ends with a soft kiss above my fly.

Bella looks up at me with a devilish smile, expectant for my command.

"These jeans aren't coming off themselves," I say.

With the palm of her hand, Bella runs over the hard line of want.

"Yes, sir," she says, her voice now deeper. We're no longer laughing.

Without leaving my eyes, she unclasps each button of my fly, giving me relief from my ache.

Sliding her hands between my skin and my clothes, she slowly drags down my jeans and underwear. Bella frees me and she inhales sharply as she's face to face with what she does to me.

When my clothes are past my knees, I help her take them off, kick them to the side, and stand before my Bella, fully ready.

I feel her breath on my erection as she looks up at me and says again, "I want to give one kiss."

Unconsciously, I lick my lips. Part of me needs to be in her mouth, but her dream revealed her fear. Even now, her voice shakes, her confidence waning. I guess I can't blame her; as much as I like my cock, it must be freaky from Bella's perspective.

"One kiss, that's all," I say.

"Yes, sir." And there's no hiding the relief in her voice.

Bella takes me in her hand, parts her lips, and leans in. I hear my own rough breath as I look down at her. Closing her eyes, she makes contact, placing one open-mouthed kiss on my head and letting out a soft moan that vibrates through my blood.

Bella leans back, still holding me, and looks up through her long lashes. Her face reveals some sort of small, private, triumph. With her firm grip, she strokes me once, twice… pre-come leaking, Bella uses her thumb to rub the wetness over my head. My balls shrink, I could come right here… come all over her.

"That's enough for now… my love." She smiles up at me. 'My love' might not be macho, but I could give a fuck. I offer my hands, and help her to stand. "Lie down on your stomach."

Bella lies on the bed, moving her arms first to her sides, then above her head, and then to her sides again. "Where should I put my arms?"

I walk to the side of the bed, admiring her. "Above." She stretches out her arms and turns her head, smiling at me.

"Lose the pillow."

Quickly, she tosses the pillows off to the side, stretches out her arms, and returns to her happy gaze. The innocence and natural beauty of Bella lying on folds of white bedding, bathed in afternoon light, is a sight to behold.

"What are you smiling at?"

"You really have to ask…? Isabella, you are sooo, so, pretty."

Before my eyes, the creamy skin covering her body transforms into pink.

"Don't go away," I say with a stern expression that brings a wider smile.

I walk into the bathroom to grab the almond oil and am unable to avoid my own reflection. My face is flushed. My eyes, hooded. Short hair, growing longer, is in wild tufts around my head.

_Slow down. Breathe, Edward, you can do this. You know her limits. Fun, but gentle; commanding, but accommodating; Godly, but dirty..._

"Edward… please stop over thinking this."

_Right, right, here we go_. After one more look in the mirror, I grab the oil and leave.

When I walk back out, I find she is writhing, moving her pelvis in tight circles.

"I don't remember telling you to do that."

"Oops. Sorry."

"Be still."

Bella closes her eyes and sighs, happily.

"How do you feel?"

"Good… really horny."

"Patience is a virtue, Bella." I finger the lace of her panties on her hip. "I think these can come off now."

I pull them off her legs, it's like unwrapping a Christmas present. The panties are wet and warm. I bring them to my nose and inhale deeply before putting them with the rest of the clothes. _This is for me. She is wet for me. I'm still trying to convince myself this woman is mine._

Taking the bottle of oil, I crawl on the bed and straddle Bella's upper thighs. I pour a deep puddle in my palm and rub my hands together; I want her body slick. Leaning over, I rub my hands into Bella's shoulders, kneading her skin and muscles as I work my way down her back. The oil lubricates my movements and I make s-curves on either side of her spine, grazing the sides of her breasts with my fingers as I move back up to her neck.

Bella moans as I continue to work, marking her skin pink with my touch. _Mine._ I watch myself thicken again, my cock twitching against the curve of her backside. Wrapping my hands around her sides, my thumbs nearly touch at her spine, I put my weight into sliding my hands up and down her body.

On this last pass, I don't stop at her lower back. Instead, I smear the oil over her behind, kneading as I go.

"Mmm, Edward."

"You like that?" I ask as I let my thumbs drag back and forth over the meeting of her cheeks.

"Yes," she breathes, sounding wanton.

I massage her sweet ass, then pull my hands up one last time in a long stroke over her back. Bella's body glistens with oil. As my hands slither over her ribs, I feel her heart flutter under my touch.

"You had a big day. I want you to relax." I pause, holding my hands over her heart until her breathing and heart rate slow again.

"We're going to try something new."

At my words, Bella's backside clenches.

"No… not that. Just a new position."

I rub my hands over my body and oil my cock. Moving my legs between Bella's, I open her up.

"Are you ready for me, Bella?"

"God, yes."

I slide my thumb inside of her.

"Ohh," her voice trembles.

It is the sensation of piercing my thumb through an overripe piece of fruit, her juice trickles down my thumb to my palm. _Holy shit, that's hot._

Moving my thumb in circles, I feel the suction of her body.

"Edward, please… I need you."

"I need you too, Bella."

I kneel between her legs and grasp her hips, lifting them to me and placing the pillow under her. All of my need is centered in my warm hardness; the sensation of want radiates in pins and needles throughout my pelvis, thighs, and stomach.

Bella begins to move to all fours.

"No. Stay stretched out," I press one hand over her spine while holding her hips in place with the other. She elongates her body, arms reaching to the headboard, her hips elevated by the pillow.

"Bella, do you want me to enter you slow or fast?"

She mewls. Our definitions of macho might differ. Being macho is getting what I want, and more than anything, I want to know her mind.

"Tell me."

"Fast." It's a breathy, guilty confession.

I glide my head over her slit and feel her body quiver. The sight of her wetness over my swollen desire fascinates me.

Tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear, I say, "I want to watch you… and hear you."

"Please," she whimpers again.

"I'm going to be fast at first," I continue my slow gliding, "and then I want to feel you, all of you, under me. You won't be able to move. If I get too heavy, or it is too much, stop me."

"Yes, sir."

She moans, so I push it further, bracing myself as I say, "You aren't allowed to come until I tell you."

Bella begins to pant. _Okay, that went over well._

"Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir."

In one forceful lunge, I thrust and press her entire body into the mattress with the weight of my own.

She cries out. I lift to my hands so she can breath. She feels tight this way, verging on the threshold of pain. I use my legs to open her wider, making her groan.

Nearly every part of my front makes contact with every part of her back. Arms touching arms, our pelvises, my thighs on her… skin, contact, flesh. This is what I want, what I always want.

"Oh, Edward… so full."

I hold steady until I feel her open further, expanding.

"Good?"

"Oh… _aughhh_, so good."

I slide my body down hers, pulling my hips away before gliding into her again.

Grunts come from deep within me, feeling her body grasp me and pull me. Again, I move in and out.

It's not just our sex that connects; I ride Bella like I'm skimming a body of water. Sliding up her, into her, gliding back down.

Soon, I find my rhythm. _She is hot and tight and beautiful and mine._ I cover Bella's body with my own, immobilizing her, owning her pleasure.

My lips brush against her ear as I say with each pump, "I. Love. You."

Taking Bella's earlobe in my teeth, I give a good tug as I continue to move.

"Ahh.. Edward."

"Yes," I hiss through my teeth, "say my name."

"Ed-_ah_-ward…"

I am in and out… in and out. I'm building. Her skin ignites my own, full body, oiled friction. From head to toe, I'm alive, making love to her with every inch of myself.

"I want to hear you, Bella."

"So good, so much… oh Edward… _God, Edward_…" Her pitch goes higher and I know she is on the verge.

"That's it, _ungh…_ feel me Bella…"

"So close… so… so close… _ahh_"

I hang on to my orgasm and pump her hard and fast.

"I'm gonna… _Oh, God_…"

Her body stiffens below me. Pressing my full body into her, I growl in her ear, "Come."

And she does.

Muscles contract and jerk under me as she moans loudly. The walls of her body pulse around my solid cock… but I hold on, absorbing, but not letting go.

The last spasm rolls like a wave under me. I lift to my hands and watch her blink and catch her breath. I know that is a face of joy; there will be no tears.

Leaning back down to her ear, I whisper, "I haven't come yet. And you need to come again."

I slide my hands between her body and the bed and lift her up with me to my knees.

"_Oh, God…" _and it sounds like a prayer_._

I hold her body high against my chest, as I move into her in short, fast strokes. At first she is limp in my arms, but soon, Bella palms her breasts, pulling at her nipples, her head falls back on my shoulder.

I watch my hips, her hands, her eyes—squeezed shut.

"Come on, Bella. I need it..."

Eyes spring open. "Oh… it's happening…"

As she says it, I feel the sensation from before—her body at once, pushing me out and pulling me in… _mind blowing._ She's going to come, hard. This set her off before; it's a flash of a memory. With God's power, I freeze. _Do I need to stop?_

"Don't stop…."

_Oh, thank God._

I pump her with everything I have.

"Come on me, Bella… Come all over me."

As my fingers reach her clitoris, I slam our bodies together, completely sheathing myself in her… and she is gone.

Hot, liquid Bella showers my thighs.

I suck the flesh of her neck into my mouth and still, succumbing to my orgasm.

Our rigid bodies lock together like a marble statue and her flesh muffles my howl as I release into her. _FUCK, that feels good._

Together, we collapse. I bring us onto our sides. Though my erection is spent, I rock my hips into her quivering body until there is nothing left of me.

I wipe the hair from her face with my open hand and turn her chin to me.

"You okay?"

"My gosh, I needed that."

"Yeah… me too… me too."

Bella hums as I press my lips to her damp temple, and blow in her ear. As I pull out of her, she makes a small sound, but she is almost asleep.

I inhale the scent of our sweat and come. I want to bottle it.

When I'm sure she has drifted off, I roll onto my back and sigh my relief. _We did it, Bella. We did it, baby. _

Noticing the time, I crawl out of bed to hop in the shower. I grab a towel, and before I head into the bathroom, I turn back to look at her, asleep but smiling. _Who else smiles in her sleep, other than Bella? _Oh, the gift of watching her sleep. What she's thinking always becomes clearer during her slumber.

Showered and shaved, I return to watching her. After I button the cuffs of my shirt, I sit on the edge of the bed and smooth my hand over her backside until she rouses.

She blinks awake and rolls onto her back. "Hi."

"Hi there. Sleep well?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Do you want to keep sleeping? You can have my car. I'll take a cab to the hospital."

"Mmm. Thank you, but no. I should get back to the apartment." Bella inhales deeply through her nose. "You smell good."

"Thanks." _I tried. For you, I always try._

I flip the collar on my shirt and put my tie around my neck. Bella rises to her knees and slips my t-shirt on.

"Can I do that? I used to tie Charlie's tie every morning as a kid." Bella looks over my shoulder and carefully moves my tie to the length she's looking for.

"Do you always wear a tie to the hospital?" Bella continues her work, crossing the wide end over the narrow.

"Yes, usually… I think so." And then I remember. "I wasn't supposed to be at the hospital when I met you. You didn't get a tie."

"You weren't supposed to be there?"

"No. I was at the library. Carlisle called me in to help out… no tie."

Bella climbs out of bed, examining her knot.

"Hmm," she says facing me. I tip my head back as she creates a dimple in the center of the tie and flips down my collar. "That just supports my theory." Stepping back, she examines the knot.

"Theory?"

"God brought us together," she says so simply. Taking my hand, she brings me to the mirror. "Come look."

The mirror reflects a beautifully tied knot and a loving couple.

"Perfect. Thank you."

"Kiss." Bella taps her finger to her mouth and tilts her head up. Gladly, I oblige.

.

.

We pull up to the apartment and I see Bella looking at her phone.

"Alice?"

"Not yet." Bella shakes her head. "That is so unlike her."

_Go Alice and Jasper. _

"Well, no worries. I'm sure I'll hear from her before dinner."

"It's dinnertime now. Eat something; don't wait for Alice."

She sighs, "Oh, Edward…"

"Bella, don't. Just… just give me this, okay?"

My voice has a hard edge; I don't intend for it to_. I don't want to go to the hospital. I want to stay here with Bella… take her out… feed her… be with her._

"Yes. Yes, Edward. I will eat." She pacifies me and I'm grateful for no argument. She reaches up and runs her fingers through the hair on the back of my head. My scalp prickles.

"Thank you, Bella."

Bella pulls me in for a gentle kiss and tension quickly fades.

"What time do you think you'll be home tonight?"

"Um… it might be a late night. Don't wait up."

She examines my face and frowns, briefly. "Is everything okay?"

"Yes. I'd just rather stay home with you tonight… or go out. You know, we've only had one date."

"We seem to do things backwards, don't we?"

"We definitely do, Bella. I promise we'll go on another date, soon."

Her fingers continue to play with my hair and she regards me with what looks like some sort of secret. "I don't need dates."

_But I want to shower you with gifts and fun evenings out. I keep failing to do so. _

"You should have dates. You should have lots of things. Right now, you should have dinner. Now, _go eat_."

"Yes, sir."

~O~

_Dear Father in Heaven, rough night._ I sit in my parked car and gather myself before going up to see Bella. Tonight there was darkness all around me. But I am happy. I want to leave the sadness behind.

_Thank you for giving me strength so that I could help others. Thank you for allowing me to be your instrument of peace and love. Please help me shake this off. And thank you for Bella, always, always, thank you for Bella. _

The apartment is silent. I tap on the bedroom door and crack it open to find Bella reading, in bed.

"Hey, you're still up."

"Of course, I am," she whispers, putting her book down.

I start to strip down to my boxer briefs, eager to crawl into bed with her. "Shuffy-shuffy?" _I want to cuddle. _

"Yes, please. I have a bedtime story to tell."

"Jasper and Alice?"

Bella quickly nods, her face full of excitement. _Oh, I want to hear this. _

"He just brought her home a little over an hour ago."

"No way."

"Yes way." The little bed creaks loudly as I crawl in. Bella turns to face me. "They spent the whole day together. Jasper even made her dinner."

"He cooked?"

"Yes."

_I love when we whisper in bed together at night._

"Wait, is he still here?"

"No. No, no, no… Alice would never on a first date."

"Tell me everything. What did she say?"

"Well…" Bella opens her mouth to speak, but stops herself. "You cannot let her know you know."

"Why, what happened?"

"Nothing really _happened_, but I had to drag it out of her… she would kill me…"

"What? Tell me. I promise I'll keep my mouth shut." _I'm going to get a secret. _

"Alice sort of met Jasper before… sort of."

"What…? When? Where? U-Dub?"

"No, no, not like that." Bella sighs again, shaking her head. "I really shouldn't…"

"If you don't tell me, I will tickle it out of you." I simply place my hand on her hip, and her body involuntary contracts. Bella plants her hand over my chest.

"Okay, okay… she dreamed about him."

"What?"

"You see, I told you, it's weird. When she was a teenager she had this dream… you know, one of _those_ kinds of dreams…"

"Women have those dreams, too?"

"Yes. And this guy in her dream has come back several times through the years. When she met Jasper, she had this incredible feeling of déjà. I guess he reminds her of the guy from her dreams."

"You're kidding. That is weird."

"I know. I told you… That's why you can't let on. She was embarrassed telling me."

"Huh." I take a moment to think about this. Finally, I shrug. "Who knows, Bella, stranger things have happened, right?"

"Yes." Bella's face relaxes. "Maybe it's weird, but it's romantic, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is."

"You know what she said to me…? She said, 'Bella, I was beginning to think I wouldn't find anyone, and then I met Jasper. He's given me hope.'"

"She said that? He gives her hope?"

"Yes." Bella strokes my cheek; romance is everywhere.

_Dear Lord, thank you for your matchmaking._

"Did you hear from Jasper? Did he say anything?"

"I got a text from him tonight."

"Oooh. What did it say?"

"It just said, 'Thanks again for introducing me to Alice.'"

"That's it?"

"That's it."

Bella rolls her eyes. "Men."

"I'll see if I can get more details out of him later."

"Good. That is now your mission," she says, poking my shoulder.

We hold each other's eyes for a moment as I move my thumb over Bella's hip.

"Now you know about my night. How was your night?"

"Oh… it was fine."

"Are you hungry? I made you a plate, I could warm it up for you."

"You did?"

"Mmm-hmm."

As I look into her soft, kind eyes I realize that I could do this. I could be a minister, a therapist, anything, if I came home to those eyes everyday.

"I'm not hungry… but thank you."

"Edward, tell me there are happier parts of this calling… it isn't all hospitals."

I smile. "There are lots of happy parts. There was a Christening a few weeks ago… I'm helping Carlisle with a wedding coming up, there's the youth retreat…"

"A youth retreat?"

_Shit._

"Um… yeah. Sometimes I go on youth retreats."

"Is there one coming up?"

I shrug. "Um… I think so… I ah… I um…"

"Oh, Edward. You should go. Don't stay behind because of me."

"But I like spending time with you." _And I don't want to let you out of my sight. _

She laughs softly and drags her finger along my jaw. "I like spending time with you, too. And I'll miss you… but I'll be fine."

"I don't know. I'll think about it."

Bella nods, but doesn't press it any further. She leans up and gives me a simple, soft kiss on my lips. I slide my hand under her t-shirt and glide my thumb in circles over the smooth skin at the curve of her waist.

"It was a rough night at the hospital, wasn't it?"

"It was alright."

Bella inhales deeply and scans my face, her eyes suddenly serious. Her hand moves from my jaw, down my arm, and lands on my hip.

"Thank you for earlier today," she says as her hand moves around to my backside and down to my upper thigh.

"Did you like it?"

"Mmm-hmm. It was fun."

I ghost my hand up her spine, under her t-shirt. I feel her heart pounding slowly, forcefully against her ribs.

Bella's fingers slide under the waistband of my underwear. She inches her way down the bare skin of my backside. Leaning in, she whispers with warm breath in my ear, "I want to take these off." My mind begins to let go and I allow myself to float. She continues, "I want to take care of you."

Closing my eyes, I feel my muscles melt, my body becoming one with the bed. I slide my fingers under her panties. Bella reaches around and takes my hand, bringing it to her mouth. One kiss on my palm and she repeats, "I want to take care of you."

"You don't want to…"

Her smile widens. "I'm good, Edward. This bed squeaks and I can't keep my voice down."

"It would be fun making you be quiet."

"Yes, it would, but not tonight."

Turning away from me, she takes a tube of lotion from her nightstand and squeezes some into her hands, rubbing them together.

_Am I getting a hand job? _

She begins to pull down my briefs and murmurs, rough and sexy, "Let me… let me make you feel good."

I give in. I leave myself in her hands.

Gently, she pushes my shoulder until I roll onto my back. I close my eyes and feel her pull away the covers and hook her fingers into the waistband of my underwear. I take a deep breath and allow myself to continue my journey away from the hospital and into this bedroom, here, fully present with Bella. My palms lay open on the bed as she carefully removes my underwear.

I open my eyes and see her moving to lie next to me. Propping herself up on her elbow, she faces me and strokes my thigh.

My cock is thick, but not yet hard, lying on my stomach. _I wish I were hard for you._

Her smooth hand moves between my legs and… _I can't believe it_… Bella cups my balls.

I hear my own sharp inhale. She's never intentionally touched them before.

"You like that?"

"Oh, yes."

She moves her thumb over them and gives a gentle tug. "Like this?"

"Yes… just like that."

I roll to my side and Bella rests her head on the pillow, moving her other hand down to grab my base. I close my eyes and take in the sensation of her firm, lubricated grip pulling my skin up the shaft.

"Oh, Bella," I exhale.

"I like touching you. I like feeling you grow in my hands." Leave it to Bella to make me feel better about my half erect cock.

One hand tugs down, while the other pulls up. I rest one hand on her hip and the other around her neck.

I lean in to kiss her. Sliding my tongue in her mouth, I move in the slow, steady tempo of her hand, each stroke of my muscle, a caress of her tongue. A few more strokes and I am completely hard, moaning in her mouth, open to her will.

I pull away from our kiss, pressing my forehead to hers as we watch her pale hands moving dark flesh over my cock. Taking the clip from her hair, I dig my hands in the still damp curls on the back of her neck, massaging her scalp, my rhythm mirroring hers.

"Oh, Bella… you feel so good." The scent from her hair hits me like a wave. "You smell so good."

Bella holds my base with one hand and starts to quickly jerk me with the other. _Too much, too soon._ My hand covers hers. "No… slow, please… I want this to last."

Her eyes shift back and forth between mine and she nods slowly. I release her hand and she resumes her measured pace. She runs her palm over my head and, "_ungh_," it pushes me closer.

"I like making you feel good."

"You… _Oh, God_… always make me feel good."

Skimming my hand over her t-shirt, back up to massage her scalp, I finally notice what she is wearing. "Uh…" my breath grows more ragged, making it difficult to talk. "_Uhh_… you're wearing my t-shirt."

"I wear them all the time when you aren't around. It makes me feel close to you."

"_Ungh_." The words from her mouth are as arousing as the movement of her hand. I fist her hair. "Oh, Bella… Oh… Oh." I grow thicker in her hands.

"Shhh." She slows her pace back down. "Quiet," she says with a mischievous grin. My orgasm recedes and I catch my breath. "This can work both ways; I can have fun making you be quiet."

For a long time, I fall into her dark chocolate eyes just experiencing the connection between us. Running my thumb over her cheek, I can feel her smile widen. Bella picks up the pace again, her hand pulling my skin in one move and sliding over it in another… I reach a new height of pleasure. Muscle groups throughout my body clench and release on their own accord.

I almost give in when I realize we aren't ready. "Soon," I whisper, "I'm gonna… we need…" I start to look around for a handkerchief or something. _Fuck, I'm going to come on her again. Why do I like that idea so much?_

Quickly, Bella presses my shoulder back down. Before I know it, I'm on my back and she's straddling my thighs—a white t-shirt clad goddess above me.

"Bella… we need, _Oh God_..."

"Hush"

I hold onto her knees. She's jerking me off with both hands; her movements are quick. My wetness is dripping down her fingers. Balls tighten; I'm there.

"Fuck… I'm coming…"

"Come in my mouth."

_WHAT?_

Bella mouth dives onto my cock. I hit the back of her throat and feel it close around me, swallowing me. Bella's eyes flash to mine…

I come like a wildcat.

Bella's hands pull my wrists and I dig my teeth into my lip to stop myself from roaring out my climax. It does little good; I grunt and thrash, unable to contain my searing hot release. My vision blurs for a moment, and then I watch and feel her swallow the last few pulses. Closing her lips, she sucks me clean as she pulls off of me.

I stare at her, stupefied and out of breath. Clearly, she awaits my reaction.

"Bella… I thought you… why…?" I'm speechless.

She crawls up my body and presses her torso into mine, burying her face in the crook of my neck.

"Did you like it?"

"Like it…?" _I'm ready to propose marriage._ "Come here." I lift her chin and lean in for a kiss, but she pulls away.

"You don't mind tasting yourself?" She looks sincerely confused.

"Mind? After what you just did?" I'm confused, too. _Oh, fuck it… I'll figure this out later._

I roll Bella onto her back and kiss her passionately. _I do taste awful. _It only makes her act more profound.

I continue to kiss her, hungrily, gratefully. It's a kiss that says, 'I want to buy you a car.' In fact… I say against her skin, "I want to buy you a car."

"What?" She pulls away laughing, holding onto my upper arms. "Wow, I get a car for doing that?"

"Let me buy you a car… your car doesn't look safe."

"My car is fine, Edward." She smiles and stokes my side burns. Her eyes look huge and dark, so pretty. "I'm still working up to the whole thing… you know…"

"Working _up_ to it…? Bella, you started at the finish line… and I think you won… and set some sort of record."

"You did like it?"

"Fuck yeah, I liked it. I loved it. I love you… I really, really love you, Bella."

"Me too." Bella closes her eyes and hums as she strokes my cheek. "I guess, like everything else, we're working our way backwards."

.

.

.

* * *

A/N

Links to Bella's lasagna recipe and "Gimme Shelter" are on my profile.

I'd love to know what you think. The review button is down there. Under this sentence.


	20. Wayward

A/N

Hello Everyone!

I adore each one of you and treasure your reviews. I have the best readership out there… and more keep joining!

This is a big day in the history of this little story. At the time of posting, the story has 1,939 reviews. When I started, I didn't think we'd ever see 2,000, but we are almost there.

A special thanks to** Brittany, aka Le_Crepuscule, for her lovely review on ****Twigirlsnextdoor.**** (link on my profile)**

**Thanks to Team SGMR: Especially robsjenn for pre-reading and orangeappeal for beta'ing.**

A couple of words about nominations at the end of the chapter.

Let's see how these two are doing…

* * *

Chapter Twenty  
Wayward

.

.

"We did not change the itinerary much from last year. Here's your copy." Carlisle hands me a printout of materials for this year's retreat.

_What have I agreed to? The two of us with eight boys, ages 15-17, camping for two days in Mt. Rainier National Park. We'll be two hours from Seattle, from Bella._

I scan the paper. "Looks like a little more free time this year."

"Yes. If I remember correctly, we thought we over scheduled them last year. Isn't that right?"

"Yeah, yeah, that's what I remember, too," I mutter as I continue to look over all the hours I'll be away from her.

"Do you two want coffee?" Esme calls out from the kitchen. I look at my watch, a little after eight, fewer than twelve hours left before we leave for the trip. "I can make decaf," she continues.

"Thank you, Esme. I'd like some decaf," Carlisle says.

"Um… sure, if you're making a pot, I'll have a cup too. Thanks, Esme." I keep my eye on the papers in front of me. "Carlisle, are you're sure we should make this a two night event?"

"Yes, I'm sure. And it's too late to change it now. As long as it doesn't rain, we can keep them until Monday morning. The in-service day at school gives us the opportunity to try a two night trip."

"Mmm. I hear it's going to rain." _Please rain._

"Edward," his voice is serious and it pulls my eyes away from the papers, "I know this was a difficult decision for you, but I think you made the right one. I'm glad you're coming."

"Thank you, Carlisle." Unease and reluctance is evident in my quiet voice.

"This is an excellent age group. These boys are crazy about you and you were terrific with them last year." Carlisle's voice is impassioned, like he's giving a convincing sermon.

"That's nice of you to say." _I still don't want to go._

"Did I tell you about the email from Seth? He's had a rough year, his parents divorced, and he's really looking forward to spending time with you."

"Seth is a good kid." I've known him for years now and he reminds me so much of myself as a teen—tall, gawky, eager to please. "Really, all the boys are good kids."

The retreat last year secured my belief that I was heading down the right path, a fact I had forgotten until this moment. _God, you really want me to go, I can tell. _

"I think this will give you a chance to explore the child psychology path we've discussed."

"Yeah… yes," I correct myself. "Thank you, Carlisle. I am glad I'm going. Sorry I've been so, I don't know…"

"Edward, I'm no fool. I would be less than enthused if I had to leave Esme during our first month of dating."

I scratch my head, feeling a little embarrassed by my transparency. "Yes, thank you for understanding."

"It's frustrating to be without a cell phone. If you look on the second page, I've included the phone number of the ranger station in case of emergencies."

_You know me so well_. Esme comes into the dinning room carrying cream and sugar. "Did you show Edward the phone number for the ranger station?" _You both know me so well._ "Be sure to give Bella my number, too. I'll be around all weekend."

My smile grows as I shift my eyes between their faces filled with warmth and hope for me. I've been blessed.

.

I get into my car and send Bella a text:

B,  
Hope girls weekend has  
started off well.  
Leaving C & Es  
stopping at condo  
then I'll be over.  
-E

I sit in the driveway waiting for her response. A minute or so later, my cell phone comes alive.

E,  
Call me when you  
get to your condo.  
-B

So curt, that's unlike Bella.

Bella,  
Is everything ok?

The response is immediate:

Yes.

This is strange. I pull out of the driveway, impatient to get home. Driving faster than I should, I get to our condo in record time. As I wait for the elevator, I text Bella again.

Bella,  
I'm at the condo.  
Last check on packing  
and I'll be there soon.  
-E

I ride the elevator up, waiting for her response and feeling anxious—our time together is limited. As I approach the front door, her text arrives:

E,  
Stay there, baby.  
I'm on my way.  
-B

_Baby? Well, that's a different tone._ _Why is she coming here? We need to stay with Alice._ Another text:

PS  
I am TISPY.

Tispy? Oh… she's tipsy. _She's tipsy?_

B,  
Where are you?  
I'll come get you.  
-E

I envision a drunk Bella walking the streets of Seattle alone. I wait for about three seconds for her reply, but hear nothing, so I call.

"Hel-looooo," she sings her answer. At least she sounds happy.

"Bella, where are you? I'm coming to get you."

"I'll give you a hint. I'm standing in front of a very handsome man right now."

_What? Who's handsome? _ I hear whispering on the other end of the phone.

"Good evening, Mr. Masen. This is Carlton."

Oh, thank God. It's my doorman.

"Ms. Swan is here to see you. Shall I send her up?"

"Yes, please. Thank you, Carlton. And… uh… Ms. Swan has a key. Can you make sure she's allowed up anytime, even if I'm not here?"

"Certainly. I will make note of it." Even through his professionalism, I can hear the humor in his voice.

Bella comes back, "See you soo-oon," and she ends the call.

_Drunk Bella, this should be interesting. _

Watching the elevator, I stand in the doorway. It opens to reveal Bella wearing a wicked grin and finger waving at me. She walks a crooked line toward me swinging a shopping bag and I meet her half way down the corridor.

"Hi, baby," she says as I wrap my arm around her waist and begin walking her the rest of the way back to the condo. Bella slips her hand into my back pocket. _Drunk Bella is amorous Bella._

"Hi there, Bella. Did you have a good time?"

"Mmm-hmm. I had a great time, but I couldn't wait to see you." She leans into me as we walk. I don't think she's wasted, but she might be beyond the point of tipsy. I bring her into the condo and lock the door.

"Did you take a cab?"

"Nope. I walked."

"_You what_?"

"Oh, my gosh. I'm kidding. Yes, I took a cab," she says placing her fingers on my chest. "I'm sorry. I'm silly when I drink. I'm silly and talky and silly."

_Talky. This could be interesting. _

"Come here, you." I take her hand and walk with her into the kitchen.

I help Bella up to her place where she sits on the counter and say, "Don't move."

"Yes, sir." Her voice has the same lascivious sound as the other afternoon. I want to say something sexy in response, but I'm still trying to read the situation.

I take a bottle of Pedialyte out of the fridge. "How much did you have to drink?" I try to keep my voice casual as I reach for a glass by her head.

"Just two."

"Two what?"

"Cosmos." She closes her eyes and scratches her head. "No three."

"_Three? _Were they pink or red?"

"Very pink. Almost clear."

Wonderful. Living on seven calories a day, three potent cosmos can obliterate her.

"No, wait… two cosmos and wine."

"Drink." I hand her the glass of Pedialyte. My thoughts and feelings are jumbled. I'm glad she had fun, but I'm jealous it wasn't with me.

"Who came over?"

"It was me and Alice and Rose. And then we wanted get Alice out the apartment, so we bribed Alice and Ruth with dinner."

"Who is Ruth?"

"Alice's wheelchair. Edward, she really needed to make friends with the chair, so we named her Ruth. She's one of the girls now." Bella looks so lovable as she blinks up at me. Really, she's adorable. I have difficulty hiding my smile as she guzzles down Pedialyte, surely a move to make me happy.

"Where did you go for dinner?"

"Oh…" wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Then she scratches her head again and looks away, confused. "Wait… we um. We started at the bar, um… Liberty, and we didn't um…"

"You didn't eat, did you?" Now I'm pissed, my hands pulling my hair, my face getting hot.

"I had a late lunch and…"

"Bella, how could you skip…"

"Please, please, Edward. We forgot to order, lost track of time. We were having fun."

She grabs my arm and pulls me toward her. In an instant, her legs are wrapped around me and she's holding my face, her eyes begging. "Please, baby. Don't be mad. I have surprises and secrets." She runs her fingers over my jaw. "I've been looking forward to this all day." Suddenly, she is kissing me, thrusting her tongue into my mouth. It's an aggressive kiss that takes me off guard. I taste Pedialyte and mouthwash, vodka… and cigarettes. _She smoked without me._

Breaking away, she continues to hold my face in her hands, "And you're leaving tomorrow. Please let's be lovey-dovey tonight."

"Okay, okay." _God, grant me patience._ I kiss her head, her ear, her throat. "After you eat." I step away from her and open the fridge.

"I'm starving."

"Yeah?" I look back at her. _At least it's something_. "What are you hungry for?"

"You." Her smile is coy, flirtatious.

I look at the clock above her head and I realize we're running out of time. "We need to get back to help out Alice. Maybe we should pick something up on the way."

Bella slowly shakes her head.

"No?"

"Nope. Rose is staying there tonight."

"You mean we can stay here?"

"Yep."

"All night?"

"Mm-hmm."

_Fuck yeah._

"Well, we definitely need to feed you, then. You'll need your strength."

Bella raises her arms in victory, "Yay!"

"Food first."

"Pizza."

"Pizza?"

Bella closes her eyes and lets her head fall back. "Mmm. I haven't had pizza in ages."

I take out my phone and hit speed dial for Pagliacci's. "What do you want on it?"

"Lots of _stuff_," she says digging her teeth into her bottom lip. As sexy as she sounds, I drop my head. _Please Lord, this can't be as complicated as ice cream. _

They pick up phone:

"Pagliacci's. Are you calling for delivery?"

"Hey, is this Pete? This is Edward."

"Hey Edward. The usual?"

"Um, no… I'll have a large pie with… " I look to Bella for some sort of help, but she's just staring, looking somewhat dazed, "ham and pineapple…?"

She comes to life and nods.

"And, mushrooms…?"

Another eager nod.

"Onions…?"

Bella scrunches her nose and shakes her head.

Quickly I say, "Pete why don't you just give me a large pie with everything but onions and we'll pick off the stuff we don't want."

Bella nods and gives me a thumbs up.

"Sure, Edward. We'll be there in a bit."

I end the call and pocket my phone as Bella takes another large glug of Pedialyte, swinging her legs, and watching me with wide eyes the whole time.

Keeping our gaze locked, I open the fridge and grab an Alaskan Amber. I open the bottle and take a swig as I toss the cap in the sink.

"Do I get a beer?" Bella teases, smiling and stretching out her arm.

"No," I say sternly and rummage through my cupboards, "you get Saltines."

Bella gives an exaggerated pout as I open the sleeve of the crackers. _Uh, that protruding bottom lip._ _Focus Edward, this is your chance to hear her talk._

"Feed me," Bella whispers, closing her eyes and parting her lips, showing a bit of her pink tongue.

I break off a piece of a cracker and lay it, with one finger, on her tongue. Taking my hand in both hers, Bella proceeds to give my finger, and the saltine, a killer blowjob. Swirling her tongue, sucking me in and out, flicking my fingertip with the tip of her tongue, all the while she closes her eyes and moans.

When she finishes sucking and pulls out my finger, she looks up at me like she's surprised I witnessed a private moment between Bella and my finger. "Sorry, I shouldn't tease." She looks so innocent.

"Teasing is okay. Bella, have you done that before? Have you given…" _what does she call it?_ "oral? I mean, other than what we did the other night."

Bella stills for a moment, expressionless, and then pulls me in for another kiss. Her calves run up and down my legs as she holds my head and moves her mouth in the same way she did a moment ago. _But she hasn't answered my question. _

I murmur against her skin, "Have you?"

She pulls me in again and continues her kiss, it is an eager kiss: biting my lip, exploring my mouth, sucking my tongue. I almost forget my question. Her hands leave my face and travel to my backside. I feel my growing hardness against the edge of the counter.

"Answer me," I say, brushing my cheek against hers.

Bella kisses my neck and works her way to my ear. Her breath is labored, her voice cautious, "You don't want to know."

Oh. It is all I need to know and more than I want to know. For a moment, my mind wanders to why she would be so turned off by giving me a blowjob, then I think about the asshole, what it must have been like with him, and my curiosity is answered. I don't want to think about this anymore.

"We're good, right?" Bella asks. I close my eyes and feel her eyelashes blinking on my cheek, her fingertips on my scruff. "Tell me we're good, Edward."

"We're good, baby. We're great," I say tightly, trying to shake images from my mind.

I step away and take another sip of beer. _I've completely killed the moment._

"Why don't you tell me a secret?"

"Secret?" Her brows pull together, she's confused.

"Yes. You said you had secrets and surprises."

"Oh, right, yes. I have a surprise," she says, the joy back in her eyes.

Without warning, Bella jumps off the counter and loses her balance, tipping to the side, but I catch her.

"_Whoa._ How about you tell me when you're going to do something like that."

Holding onto my arms as she finds her footing, she looks up, pleading with her eyes—for what, I don't know. There is a pull between us, like the moment before a first kiss.

"We… we… went shopping," she whispers, her eyes shifting between mine.

_She went shopping, Edward, say something nice. _I glance down and look at her top.

"Is that a new top?"

Her chest rises and her mouth curls in a smile. "Yes. You noticed."

I feel the counter behind her, place down my beer, and return my arms to their place around her waist and back. All reason shuts down; I am a wire, ungrounded, live, coursing with a current of emotions. I press into her and I try to speak, but really, I just want to be inside of her. _Be nice, Edward. Calm down. _

"It's blue. Blue is pretty on you."

With a slight nod, her eyes grow wide. "It's my color," she murmurs, "I don't want to wear Alice's clothes any more."

A_lice's clothes? Sue said something about Bella's clothes, but I can't remember right now._

_Keep this going. Keep talking, Bella._

I run my hand over Bella's jeans; they hug her body. "Are these new jeans?"

"Yes." Bella blushes; her hands move to my neck.

"They're tight."

"I thought you might like them."

I push my erection against her hip and run my hand around her peach of an ass. Her breath is on my neck. Sliding my hand under and between her legs, I feel the wet denim.

"Bella. You're soaked." _Not romantic, Edward._

Her head falls back, eyes closed, she wears a drunken smile.

"Mmm. That's what you do to me."

Looking lost in her own world, Bella arches, leaning her back against the counter. Her hands leave my neck and slide down her throat.

"That is what happens when I think about you."

I keep her pinned with my hips as I rub my hand over the coarse fabric. She moans. _Keep talking, Bella._

"When I'm at work, I think of you. When I'm at home, tonight at the bar… I get so wet."

She licks her lips. It is as if she is in a dream or a hypnotic state, the words just flow.

"And the guys at the bar… mmm."

_Guys?_

"Tell me about the bar, Bella."

"They were flirting with me. Not Rose, _me_." A smile grows wider and she's almost laughing. _I unbutton her jeans; I want to be inside what is mine._

"Did you flirt back?"

"Noo," she says as if it a preposterous idea.

I unzip.

"Did that make them flirt more?"

She starts to giggle. "Mmm. How did you know?"

_Stop, Edward. Do not go in her pants. STOP. _

I step away. Bella's knees weaken for a moment, but she straightens up again, jolted out of her fantasy or whatever the fuck that was.

I grab my beer and finish most of it as I walk out of the kitchen.

"Oh my God," I hear her whisper.

Footsteps follow behind me as I head to a chair in the living room.

"Edward?"

_I am fuming._

I sit down and Bella follows, sitting in front of me on the ottoman. I keep my eyes above her, straight ahead.

"Edward?" She puts her hands on my knees, but I don't look at her. "You're mad?"

Another swig of beer.

"I don't understand. You're mad? Are you… wait… you're not _jealous_, are you?"

"Yes, I'm fucking jealous."

She gasps, a hand covering her open mouth. "Oh my God."

_What? You're surprised? _I can't keep still; my knee bounces as I finish my beer.

Bella digs her hand in her hair and looks around, bemused.

"But I… I'm sorry. I didn't think you could ever be…" A single laugh escapes her lips.

"You're laughing?" _Oh, now I am livid._

"No, no… I'm drunk and stupid and shocked, really, really shocked. I could never imagine that you, _you _could be jealous of me. I mean you're you, and guys don't flirt with me…"

"You know why I'm pissed off, Bella?" I lean in and get in her face, "Because you still don't get it. You still don't get how pretty you are. You're out there walking around the streets of Seattle drunk and wet. And guys are hanging all over you. And, and, you are so naive, you don't understand what's going on in guys' heads. They're fucked, Bella. Most of them are completely fucked and looking for one thing."

_I need another beer._ I get up and walk into the kitchen. I open a bottle and whip the cap into the sink. Taking a long swill, I step out into the living room where Bella is still sitting.

"And don't tell me that guys don't flirt with you. Or are you really that blind? Every single one of Mike's so-called friends was hanging all over you at the funeral. Any one of them would nail you if they had the chance."

_There, I've said my piece. _

She sits there, staring at her hands.

_Come on, Bella, your turn. Say something. _I drink more beer and look at her.

_Fuck it._ I go back into the kitchen.

I press my palms into the counter, and wait. It's so quiet; I can hear my heartbeat in my ears. _Maybe I was too harsh._ _Yes, probably too harsh. What did I just say to her?_

"Edward," she startles me. I turn around to see her, looking pale and stone sober, in the doorway of the kitchen.

"First, I don't walk around Seattle drunk." Her voice is calm, cool; it unnerves me. "Second, before I met you, I went out with friends and handled myself just fine. And third, I know all too well the darkness inside the minds of men."

My phone rings and I turn away to answer it. "Hello," I snap.

"Mr. Masen, your pizza is here. Should I send him up?"

I glance at Bella's shopping bag on the counter.

"Um… can you give me a few minutes? Actually, don't send him up. I'll be down in a minute."

"Sure."

"Thanks."

I end the call and reach for the shopping bag, playing with the strings, as I calm myself.

_I should apologize. I'm leaving tomorrow. We have to turn this night around._

"The pizza is here. I'll go down and get it," I mutter.

Curiosity gets the best of me and I look in her bag. Silky material. I pull it out and see it is a short, blue, silky nightgown. _I am a total prick._

"Bella, I'm sorry."

I turn around, but she's no longer in the doorway. "Bella?" I walk out into the living room, but she isn't there.

"_Bella?" _I call out, but hear nothing_. Fuck, she's gone._

I run out into the corridor and see Bella in the elevator, frantically pushing a button, her eyes raised to the numbers, as the doors close.

"Wait," I run down to the elevator and throw my arm in to stop it from closing. As the doors open, Bella recedes and turns to the corner, turning away from me.

"I want to go home now," her voice shakes.

"Bella, Bella I'm sorry. I…" I hold her shoulders as she crosses her arms in front of herself. "Please forgive me. I lost my temper."

_Please, God. Please, God. Please, God._

"You're forgiven... but I still want to go home now."

"Please, please, Bella." I kiss the top of her head. "Stay with me."

I hear her sniffle.

_I made Bella cry. No._

I grab for my handkerchief, offering it to her over her shoulder.

Her only response is to shake her head.

_No to the handkerchief? No to staying? Both?_

"Just stay for a little bit. If you still want to go home, I'll take you home. Okay?"

The decision seems to take forever.

_I have totally fucked this. _

I hear the doors open and take a glance to see we've reached the lobby.

I whisper into her hair. "I promise, I'll take you home. Please stay a little longer."

She nods.

_This is your chance, Edward. Fix this. _

"Stay here. I um… I'll get the pizza."

As we ride the elevator back up, I stand next to her, praying for some words.

I place my hand on the nape of her neck. "I'm sorry," I whisper again.

"I know. Me too."

When we get back in my condo, Bella silently takes a seat at the breakfast bar.

I open the pizza box. _There is so much shit on this pizza, she will never eat it._ Instead of paper plates, I choose regular; it's nicer that way.

"What can I get you to drink?" _Pedialyte? Beer? Whatever you want._

"Water, please." Her voice is so low, I can barely hear her.

Placing the pizza and water in front of her I say, "There's a lot of stuff on it. You know… um… take off whatever you want."

"Thank you."

I don't know what to say.

"I'll be right back," I tell her as I go into the bathroom, because the last time I turned away, she left.

From the medicine cabinet, I take two Tylenol, and return, placing them next to her plate.

"These will help you fight off a hangover." My voice is soft. _Where was my soft voice earlier? _

'_Don't take them until after you eat,_' I want to say_, _but I hold my tongue and watch her take them.

I stand in the kitchen, eating my slice, trying not to watch Bella pick at her pizza, making a meal of the crust. The silence chokes me. _What should I say? 'Bella sometimes I'm a raging idiot?' Yes, maybe I should._

"Ed-"

"Bel-"

We start at the same time, but we are absent of the laughter that usually accompanies such a moment.

"You go first," she says.

"No, please, you."

"I'm sorry I said things that made you angry." In a cautious voice, she speaks as if she's been practicing this speech in her head for the last fifteen minutes, "I make mistakes, but I never intend to hurt you or play games."

_I know this._

"Edward, I am trying very, ver-" her voice breaks, then she composes herself, "very hard, but I am still not used to this—what we have. I am afraid you have the wrong idea of who I am. I am not the kind of woman who hangs out in bars and…"

"Stop, please stop." I put down my pizza. "I know that's not the kind of woman you are, Bella. I have no idea what came over me. I'm not used to this either. I don't think I've ever been jealous of anyone before."

Cocking her head, she looks strangely at me. "You didn't get jealous with any of your other girlfriends?"

_Other girlfriends? _

"Bella, I've dated here and there, but I never had a girlfriend before, not like this."

Her brows pull together.

"Haven't we talked about this?" _Surely she knows about my lack of relationships._

"No, we haven't. I've been curious, but never wanted to ask. I've always assumed you had a long history of… leggy, beautiful women."

"No."

"Oh. I see." I watch as Bella process the information. "None?"

"Just one."

"One?"

I nod, raising one finger.

"Oh." Bella looks away, her face riddled with apprehension. "Can I, can I ask her name?"

"Hospital socks."

Bella's eyes meet mine, frozen for a split second, then a sob escapes and Bella covers her mouth with her hand.

I walk around to the breakfast bar. By the time I reach her, she is full on bawling.

Turning her stool to me, she pulls me in for an urgent hug, grasping at the back of my shirt and burying her face in my neck as she cries.

I hold her tightly, maybe crushing her. "Bella, you are it. You are the love of my life… and I've been a total shit." It spurs more tears. "I worry about you."

"Too much."

"Too much? Maybe. I don't know. Maybe not enough."

She pulls away, laughing, crying. "Edward, you couldn't possibly worry about me more."

With the back of her hand, Bella wipes her tear-streaked cheeks. "Handkerchief?" she asks.

"Handkerchief," I say, fumbling for it and handing it to her.

Bella wipes her face and blows her nose as I stand between her legs, holding the back of her knees.

"I'm so emotional. I think it's the booze and I'm PMSing, and… gosh, I'm babbling."

"Don't stop babbling, talk to me."

"You. _You_ talk to me."

_Pressure._

"I don't know…" _Be honest_ "I think it scares me that you don't know what kind of a catch you are, that you don't see yourself clearly, and you're going to leave yourself vulnerable. Or someone is going to steal you away. Or… or… you'll realize all you have going for you and you'll leave me."

"_Leave you_?"

"For someone better. For someone more mature… someone who doesn't go off on you in some sort of juvenile temper tantrum."

"Edward, I am a catch in your eyes, and I'm finally starting to see that." Placing my hand over her chest she says, "You have to believe in my feelings for you. Never doubt my heart is yours, completely."

_He doesn't still have some of it?_

"_Completely_." Bella answers my silent question.

I nod and repeat the words back to myself.

"Bella, promise me something."

"I'll try."

"When I get back from the retreat, go out drinking with me."

Bella bursts out in a short fit of laughter.

"You like me when I'm drunk?"

"You're incredibly sexy when you're drunk."

"I'm drunk now."

"My point exactly," I say, wiping the last of her tears away with my thumbs.

"Look at me. I'm sure I am a mess."

"You're pretty, always." I hold her stare. "Stay."

Her smile widens as she shakes her head, "Of course."

"Let me make love to you."

"You better."

"Isabella?"

"Yes, Edward?"

"Would it be wrong for me to suggest you eat more pizza first?"

She shakes her head again, amused. Taking my face in her hands, she says, "Oh, my Edward," and kisses my forehead, "my Edward," my cheek, "my Edward," my lips. "Yes, I will eat more pizza first."

~0~

I wake to the smell of coffee in the air and the taste of Bella on my tongue.

It's early; the sun is not yet up_. I want to sleep. _I turn over and doze off again.

Bacon. _Mmm, I like bacon_. The sound and smoky smell of sizzling bacon wakes me a second time.

Groggy, I sit up in bed and rub my eyes with the heels of my hands.

_Oh Dear Lord, what did I do last night? I can't believe she stayed. Hospital socks? That was all you, God. Divine intervention. _

I roll my head around. I'm sore, but don't know why. I must have been holding tension.

_Bella's quickness to forgive, her grace, both a gift and a curse, is what inspires and worries me the most. Her grace saved my ass last night—I cannot do that again._

I go into the kitchen where Bella, wearing my t-shirt over her new nightie, stands scrambling a bowl of eggs. _My girl has great legs._

"Morning, Bella."

"Good morning."

I wrap my arms around her and trail kisses down her neck.

"Are you making me breakfast?"

"No, this is for me. Would you like me to make you something, too?" She angles her head and gives me a wry smile.

"You're too good to me."

"You need a mountain man breakfast to start off your trip."

I rest my chin on her shoulder as she goes back to scrambling.

"Can I apologize again?"

"No," she says, turning into my arms, facing me. "Like I said last night, we'll make mistakes, we have to forgive and move on. I've let it go; please, do the same. Don't torture yourself, Edward."

Like the child I am, I say, "I don't want to go to the retreat."

"What? You must go."

"Must?

"Yes. You're not the type to break a commitment, and those boys, oh, those boys would be so disappointed. Besides, who will lead them into a rousing rendition of Kumbaya?"

I give her a gentle pinch on her backside and she chirps like a bird. "We do not sing Kumbaya." _Though, maybe we should._

Bella kisses my cheek, "Will you get the orange juice?"

As I turn to get the orange juice, Bella pours the eggs into the frying pan.

"What do you do with the boys?"

"It's mostly camping stuff—fishing, hiking, there's a basketball court on the campground." I reach into the cabinet and get plates to set the table. "Boys are more likely to open up and talk if they're doing something, being active, you know. So then we talk about the basics – peer pressure, drugs, parents."

"Mmm, those boys are lucky to have you and Carlisle. I could have used something like that at that age."

"Yeah?"

"Well, yes. Most kids could use that, don't you think?

"What would you have talked about?"

"Oh, I don't know." I stand against the counter watching Bella cook and open up. "It's an emotional time for a girl, all kids I guess. So much drama." Bella shakes her head and laughs. "Poor Charlie. I think I terrified him as a teen, and without a mom, I don't know."

"How did you handle it?"

"Um… how did I handle it? I think I developed skills to hide my emotions, control them."

_You still have those skills, Bella._

"Monday is your first therapy session?"

"Yes. Monday morning. If I'm not around when you get back, you'll know where I'll be."

"I'll come find you."

.

.

.

.

* * *

A/N:

Oh, Edward. *shakes head* So are you a wee bit mad at him or are you as forgiving as Gracella? I'm curious to know.

I am truly honored when this story is nominated for awards. Thank you.

She Gives Me Religion has moved onto the Silver Round in the Everlasting Twilight Awards in the 'Forbidden Love' category.

http:/everlastingtwilightawards(dot)yolasite(dot)com/voting(dot)php

And the story has been nominated for two Shimmer Awards:

'Adonis Award' for best use of Edward

'UnderDog Award' for best new author

http:/www(dot)kwiksurveys(dot)com/online-survey(dot) php?surveyID=NOOJIH_b9f578b4

I feel honored to be listed next to so many great authors and stories. Thank you!

Love,

Liz xoxox


	21. Retreat

A/N:

Thank you for your lovely reviews. We made it to 2,000 last chapter (and some)!

Much thanks to Team SGMR: orangeappeal, robsjenn, and Sunshine.

Just for clarity, Seth in this story is not Sue's son.

So... the retreat awaits...

* * *

Chapter Twenty-One  
Retreat

.

.

Edward,  
I expect a freezer's  
worth of venison  
when you return.  
Love,  
Your Leggy Woman

_We're almost out of range; I hope to get in a few more texts._

Dear Legs,  
Venison?  
You are definitely from Forks.  
BTW-I don't hunt  
Love,  
Your Pacifist

Dear Kind One,  
I don't like hunting either.  
I also don't like venison.  
Shh. Don't tell the good  
people of Forks.  
Love ALWAYS,  
Your Bella

B-  
I already miss you.  
-E

I press send, and get an error message in return. We are officially out of range.

"Reverend Cullen, our phones aren't working anymore," Brady calls from the back of the van.

"That's right, Brady. We have reached the point of no return," Carlisle says in a spooky voice. "We are stuck in the mountains where we will be without our cell phones, TV, radio… whatever will we do?" Carlisle teases and it brings about a small chuckle. They love Carlisle and the dad-like, gentle sense of humor he uses with them. "Should we go back now, Edward?"

"Maybe. I'm already starting to go a little insane. Are you sure there won't be any TV? No radio, Carlisle?"

"No. It's a shame we're going to miss that Seahawks game."

"No way, dude, Edward, you said you were going to bring a radio for the game."

"I did, Brady?" I turn around and give them my best dumbfounded face. "I totally forgot."

I turn back in my seat and glance sideways at Carlisle, both of us grinning. It was his idea to bring the radio so we could listen to the game.

"Come on, you guys are kidding us, right?"

"Did you pack a radio, Carlisle?" I ask loudly enough for them all to hear.

"I'm not sure, I think I may have. It's a good idea to have a radio, in case of an emergency." Carlisle glances in the rearview mirror, watching their faces.

"But a Seahawks game _is_ an emergency."

Within a few seconds, the guys are chanting, "_Emergency, emergency, emergency…_"

When it reaches a fever pitch, Carlisle calls out, "Yes, yes, we're going to listen to the game."

The guys cheer as if they themselves just won The Super Bowl.

_It's going to be a good weekend. _

~o~

"Sixteen, seventeen… Alright, gentlemen, it looks like we can keep the hotdogs in the cooler. I believe we have enough fish for quite a feast. In fact, we might have a record here."

The guys clap and high five each other as Carlisle snaps the cooler shut.

The fishing trip always lasts until each of them catches at least one fish. I figured out Carlisle's pattern during my first trip, when I was fifteen. We seemed to be fishing forever, and I wasn't having any luck. About ten minutes after I caught a fish, Carlisle declared the fishing trip over.

I look at the happy, accomplished faces of this motley bunch of teen boys. Some look like men, with their broadening shoulders and slight stubble, while the younger ones seem like they are still just round-faced boys. All of them, happy to be away from the troubles—both big and small—they've left behind.

As we walk back to camp, Embry takes out a knife given to him by his father, and four others follow suit showing various hunting knives and army knives they've brought for the trip.

"My dad and I came down here just a couple of weeks ago," Josh, one of the quieter, younger ones, says. "I can clean a fish in under a minute."

"Under a minute? Good thing. We can use those skills," Carlisle says, putting his arm around him. Josh looks up and beams at him as if God himself came down and complimented him.

I pick up my pace so I can catch up with Seth, walking somewhat away from the others. He's shot up in the last few months-as tall as I am and starting to fill out, transitioning from string bean to man, just as I did at that age.

"Seth, hey, you had some nice catches. What did you catch like three? Four?" _I know he caught five. _

"Yeah, something like that," he says sheepishly, staring at his feet as he walks_._

"They were big, too."

"I like to go fishing. I haven't been in a while."

"Me neither. It's hard to find the time."

"I know." I look over to him. I think he might want to say something else, but doesn't. "I hate the cleaning part. Maybe I can get Josh to clean my fish."

"What's the matter? Afraid to get your hands dirty?" He teases and peeks up to gauge my reaction.

"Oh." I mime a dagger entering my heart. "Be careful, Seth, you're big enough now; I can stop letting you win at basketball."

"What? You've never let me win. I totally beat you the last time we played." _Here we go._

"Aww, is that what you think? That you actually beat me? I so let you win."

"Prove it."

"You want to play again? I'll play again, if you want… if you're prepared to lose."

"Oh, you are on Masen."

"Yeah? You think you can handle me?"

"I _know_ I can handle you."

"Tomorrow morning, me and you. Unless, of course, you get scared and back out."

"Me, get scared? I don't think so."

"Okay, we'll see."

~0~

After the last group of boys heads to their tents to sleep, I pull on another flannel shirt and meet up with Carlisle by the dying campfire.

"Tired, old man?" I ask as Carlisle stretches and yawns.

"I still have a little life in me."

"Good. I'll get the fire going again." I throw a log on the fire, and take great pleasure shifting the wood, hearing it crack. I rest my head back onto my log and watch the occasional ember twist and float against the dark blue sky.

"I wish we had some beer," I whisper.

"Me too. It's not always easy being a role model."

"You and I should come down here sometime, just the two of us."

"Yes we should, Edward. Let's do that. Maybe we can squeeze in a trip before it gets too cold."

"I'd like that a lot." I look up at the stars and take a cleansing breath, now realizing how much I've missed Carlisle this month. We've had official business, but nothing like this. "Sorry I haven't been around much."

"I understand. It looks like things are going quite well between you and Bella."

"Yeah, they are. Well, I think they are. No, they are."

"You spend so much time together, today must have been rough for you."

"No. Surprisingly, I think it was okay. You know, I get focused on the boys and all."

"I heard you challenge Seth to a game of basketball… Oh, the memories."

"I know, right. You were good with that whole pick up game of basketball bullshit."

Carlisle laughs and I look up to see his kind eyes shining in the light of the fire.

I remember well the Saturday morning a few months after moving in with him, Carlisle tapping on my bedroom door and asking me to join him at the gym for a pick up game. I thought it was odd, but I'd do anything he asked. Little did I know it was a set up; we picked up a game with the man who would soon be my therapist.

"That was a very clever way to get me into therapy."

"It was Liam's idea."

"Now _he_ is a good child psychologist."

"You should get back in touch with him, Edward. I'm sure he'd have insights on graduate school."

"I should." I remember Carlisle feigning a sore back, leaving Liam and me alone to finish the game. "I never knew it was Liam's idea."

"You would have kicked and screamed any other way."

"No. Kicked and screamed?" I turn to look at him.

"Been horribly reluctant?"

"Really?"

"No. You would have gone. But you would have been angry… and felt guilty… maybe shut yourself away in the bedroom for good."

I lie back down and cover my eyes with my forearm. "God, those were rough times. I put you and Esme through hell."

"No you didn't, Edward." He nudges my foot with his own. "You tried so hard to do anything but." _Much of it is a blur, but I tried._ "Remember when you tried to pay off our mortgage with your inheritance?"

I groan. "Oh, man. I couldn't understand why the bank teller wouldn't take my check. Seemed simple enough." I shake my head and try to laugh at the memory.

"Or the day you got up early to walk to school, ten miles away, so we wouldn't have to drive you."

"Oh, shit. I forgot about that one."

"You almost made it, too."

I hear Carlisle's soft laugh and pull my arm away.

"We made it through, Edward. We made it through."

Carlisle gets up and heads to the cooler. "Marshmallow?"

"You mean there are some left?"

"Secret stash."

"That is the last time I suggest Kumbya in front of a bunch of teenage boys holding marshmallows."

"They were being nice. At least they didn't throw any of the toasted ones at you."

As I clean off a couple of sticks, Carlisle opens the bag.

"Hey, Carlisle, you don't ever hear from Detective Jenks, do you?"

"No Edward. I think that door is closed."

"Yeah. I guess so."

"If I did hear from him, you'd be the first to know."

Unbidden, my memories of pestering Det. Jenks on a daily basis come to mind. The day Carlisle found out was one of our hardest.

"So, you think the… um… you know… was just random?"

"I do. They fully investigated anyone with motive."

I hand Carlisle a stick and he passes me the bag. Silently, we sit toasting our marshmallows—Carlisle with his slow tanning method, and me, setting mine to fire. _Some day, God, let me know who. Let me know who did it. _

I pull the sticky glop off and pop it into my mouth. _So sweet._ In the silence, my mind drifts to my sweet Bella. She'll be going to sleep soon. _Please God, no nightmares._ I exhale, slowly. Though I blew in her ear before I left, maybe this one can make its way to her.

"Thinking about Bella?"

"Yep." I look into the fire as I lick and bite the last of the melted marshmallow off of my fingers.

"Carlisle, when you and Esme started going out, did you take her on a lot of dates?"

"Well, yes, sure, but we didn't date very long before I proposed."

"But I mean actual dates, out to dinner and stuff."

"Yes. Dating is a natural part of our courtship culture." I catch him watching me, curiously. "Don't you take Bella on dates?"

"Um… not really. Only one." I scratch my brow, feeling a little embarrassed._ I took her to Kell's, not exactly Seattle's most romantic. _

"Well, maybe that's how people do it these days. I guess I'm a little old fashioned. I remember wanting to _woo_ Esme."

"Yes, woo, I want to woo." _He understands me._ "Carlisle, I'm old fashioned, I mean I thought I was… I want to be."

"So, how do you and Bella spend your time together?"

_Having sex._

"You know, sometimes, it is like we're an old married couple already. We have our routine. We have Alice, who's like our child, or my mother-in-law, or something." I chuckle to myself, "No that's not fair, I mean we're like a little family. Bella says she doesn't need dates but…"

"Trust me, if you're in a routine already, Bella needs dates. _You_ need dates. I know you and Bella started off in a… unique way, but I am a firm believer in dates. Even Esme and I have dates."

"Do you?"

"Yes, yes. We don't let two weeks go by without a date… and throwing in a little present, a surprise here and there, doesn't hurt. We work at it. We work at being romantic."

_My Bella, with her surprises… her nightie, my hospital socks, the playlists… she works at it. _

"Edward, I'm not sure if you want to talk about this, but…" _Please don't bring up sex, _"the fact that you and Bella are physically intimate…" _No, no, no. I don't want to talk about sex,_ "can make things a little more complicated."

Avoiding his eyes, I place another marshmallow on my stick. I sigh and kick myself as I ask, "You think we should stop, don't you."

"Stop? I don't think that's possible, do you?" _Oh, thank God._

"I highly doubt it."

"What I am saying is, don't make the mistake of thinking sex takes the place of romance. Wooing, dating, whatever you want to call it, is a ritual to prove to your partner that you are worthy. Even when our partners already see us as worthy, it's important to remind each other why we are." He drops his voice to a whisper, "It makes the sex better."

_Better?_ Like I needed another reason to woo her.

"Thanks, Carlisle. Things have happened really fast for us. So fast, it sometimes makes my head spin. But I want to woo her. I will woo her."

"Good. Now I have a question for you, Edward."

"What's that?"

"Do you ever think I'll get them to call me Carlisle instead of Reverend Cullen?"

"Nope."

~0~

Holding my flashlight and notepad, I crawl into my sleeping bag.

_Ha, Newton Outfitters, my camping gear came from REI. _

I begin my list:

Ways to woo Bella:  
1-Dating:  
-Nice restaurant, jacket and tie  
-Weekend away, Rose stay w/ Alice?  
-Europe? When?

2-Gifts:  
-A New Car_  
No, she'll resist that._  
-Lingerie, clothes

_Is that insulting? I don't remember Dad ever buying Mom clothes. I'll have to ask Alice. _

_Gifts? Gifts? Bella doesn't seem to like material things, does she? Jewelry. All women like jewelry. Don't they? _

_I'm stuck. _

_I suck._

_Any ideas, God, let me know. _

I turn off my flashlight.

_Good night, my Bella. Sleep tight._

~0~

I stand on the blacktop, dribbling the ball and praying for wisdom.

"Last chance to back out, Seth."

"Are you kidding? I've been counting the minutes 'til this rematch."

"Should we start with a little game of Horse?"

"Sure."

I pass him the ball. "You can start."

Seth starts with a basic layup. _He wants this to be a friendly game. _

"I thought I'd start easy on you, Masen."

"Thanks." I easily replicate his shot.

"So, Seth, you don't go camping much anymore?"

I take a shot from the foul line. Seth tries the same shot, but misses. _Sorry, Buddy._

"That's H for me." He dribbles for a few moments and makes his next shot. "No, I haven't gone camping this year. Not since my parents' divorce."

"Huh. Well, that's no good," I say before missing my shot. "You see your dad on weekends though, right?"

Seth goes in for a back handed layup and makes it. He passes me the ball and I dribble for a moment as he speaks. "Nah, he misses most weekends. He has a girlfriend."

"That sucks."

I take the backhanded layup and make it.

"Yeah, but there's nothing I can do about it, right?" Seth takes off his sweatshirt leaving him in just a t-shirt and I do the same. At least I'm not sweating because I'm getting old.

"Have you told him how you feel?"

"Yeah, he knows. I told him… Doesn't matter."

Seth chucks the ball, revealing his anger. It is a hard, misguided throw that skims the edge of the backboard.

_So very bitter._ _Your dad is an asshole. Some people should not have kids._

Seth retrieves the ball and passes it to me.

"I bet it feels like she's taking him away from you."

"Yeah, it does. Exactly like that."

"So, how is your school work going through all this? I'm still thinking we can find you a good college scholarship." _I can guarantee it. _

"They slipped at first, but now their good. My girlfriend is really smart. She makes me study all the time."

"Girlfriend? _Holy moly,_ aren't you like twelve?"

"Shut up. I'm sixteen." And with that, Seth dunks his next shot.

"Take that, Masen."

I try the same shot, but miss, letting out a loud grunt at the effort.

"I think that's an O for me."

"I lost count," he shrugs.

"Yeah, me too." I pass him the ball, "Next shot is yours." The game has served its purpose; it was never about the competition. We take turns shooting as we continue our conversation.

"Edward, how old are you now, twenty-three? Twenty-four?"

"I'm twenty-six."

"Wow, you are old."

I bounce the ball off of his head, so quickly it barely registers. "Ow."

"Didn't hurt. Careful, I'm quick… Try to block me." We spend a few minutes playing one-on-one and I get in a couple of decent shots. "Surrender. I need water," I say and we head to the bench.

"So, you have a girlfriend, right, Edward?"

"Yeah, I do, Bella." I smile and use my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face.

"And you're twenty-six."

"Yep."

"So, are you like a virgin still?"

_Holy Fuck, I was not expecting this. _

"Shit, I'm sorry. That was too personal." I look over and can see him mentally kicking himself. I'm sure I look like that too sometimes.

"No, no, it's okay." I sigh. I need a moment to figure this out, but I look at his face, expectant, nervous, and for all intent and purposes, fatherless.

"Well, Seth, you know the church's stance on pre-marital sex…"

"Yeah, I do," he says, sounding frustrated. He takes the ball from me, and spins it in his fingers.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather talk to Carlisle about this?"

"Reverend Cullen is great, but a little old. You're, you know, cool."

I laugh. "You'd be surprised what great advice he gives, even with stuff like this."

Seth slowly stands from the bench and dribbles the ball away from me. "Edward, if you don't want to talk about it, it's alright."

"No, no… let's talk about it."

Seth takes a shot and I catch the rebound.

"What's her name?"

"Mary."

"How long have you been seeing her?"

"'Bout five months."

"So, um… what do you guys do together?"

"You mean like sex?"

"_No._ I mean, how do you spend your time together."

"I don't know. She usually comes over after school, we study, hang out. My mom works late, so Mary and I make dinner. You know, we mostly talk."

_All that at sixteen? _"Really? What do you talk about?"

"Our messed up families," he says with a little laugh, "friends, college, the future, stuff like that."

_Mature relationship._ "Is she in the same grade as you?"

"Yeah, we're both juniors."

I run through my list of why they should not have sex, but most of my arguments won't work in this case.

"Does she pressure you?"

"Nah, not really. We both want to, but I guess I'm more of the hold out. She says she's cool waiting. I just really don't know what I'm waiting for. You know, it's hard," Seth starts to laugh goofily at the pun, "really, really, _hard_." _Yes, he is sixteen._

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. "

We start to shoot baskets again, giving me some more time to figure this out.

"Seth, what about pregnancy?"

"She's on the pill."

"What about STDs?"

"We're both virgins, Masen."

"What about love?"

"I love her. I really love her."

He goes in for a basket and I block him, stealing the ball.

"Seth, sex is supposed to happen between a husband and wife joined in _Holy Matrimony_."

"Yeah, Edward, I know. And we want to get married. We think we should graduate college first, unless we…" he stops and examines my face.

"Unless what?"

"Well, we thought about getting married early. In some states you don't even…"

"What? No, no, no. You are not getting married so you can have sex. Seth, listen to me. Sex fucks with your head."

"Oh, great, a scare tactic." He all but rolls his eyes at me.

"No, no, I'm not bullshitting you. Once you start having it, it is _all you want. _And, chemicals are released that bond you further together… and… your frontal lobe isn't even developed yet, won't be for a few years… and…" I sigh and look at his disappointed face; this isn't working. "I never answered your question."

"I know."

"Look, I'm not a virgin, but I waited a really, really long time."

"Did it fuck with your head?"

"Watch your mouth." He looks apologetic for a second before I crack a smile.

"I think so, Seth. I think I started to get really jealous, protective."

"Was your relationship better before you started having sex?"

_His question halts me. I don't know, never will. There was no relationship before the sex. _

"Um… I honestly don't know, Seth. That's a good question." I put my hand on his shoulder. "What I do know is that when I was abstinent, I didn't have to spend a lot of energy trying to decide if I should or shouldn't; the answer was always going to be no. If you take sex off the table, you don't have to worry about it. It frees you up to think about more important things."

I can tell he genuinely considers my message. "Edward, guys my age think about it all the time whether they're having it or not."

"That may be true… I'll tell you what, take it off the table for three months and you won't have to worry about it. Then come see me and we'll talk about it again." _I'll be more prepared next time. _

"Three months…? Okay. It's a deal."

"Good, and Mary should talk to someone, too. This is something that you both need to decide."

"Edward, in three months, can I bring Mary with me to talk to you?"

_No._

"Um, sure, we'll talk about it together… One more thing, if you decide you can't wait, you _have to_ come and talk to me _before_ you do anything."

"So you can talk me out of it?"

"No. Well, I might. But you need condoms and…"

"She's on the pill."

"I know, but you should still use a condom and spermicide and jellies… and, please, please don't have sex."

"Alright Edward, we can do three months." He looks young again and carefree. Maybe a weight has been lifted.

"Good."

"So, can I get a chance to beat you now at a little one-on-one?"

I bounce the ball off of his head again.

"Ow."

"Didn't hurt," I say as I make my basket.

~o~

"Three months?" Carlisle asks me as we stand away from the guys who are listening to the Seahawks game and eating an obscene number of hot dogs.

"Yes. It's the best I could do. I should have been more prepared, but it threw me."

"I think you did fine. A lot can happen in three months, the relationship can change, he can change… "

"You and I need to talk before then."

"Oh, we will."

"You know Carlisle, I realized today that most of what I tell these guys are just things you've told me over the years. I guess I was stumped because you and I never had that talk."

"I know. I was waiting for it, but it never happened." He turns his head to me and gives me a half smile. I can't read his expression. Proud?

"I wonder why." I say it mostly to myself. _Why didn't I struggle with abstinence until college, until Tanya? Even then, it wasn't much of a struggle. _

"Edward," Carlisle looks like he isn't sure if my question was rhetorical, "you had far more important things on your mind at that time. You were living one day at a time for a while and sex was one coping mechanism you _didn't_ try." The way he says it makes me think there were several other mechanisms. There was a bit of drinking but… I don't want to ask, not now. _I'll figure this out._

And that's when I feel it, the first large raindrop. It's like a full tablespoon of water that splashes on my sweatshirt, soaking straight through. Then another on my forearm. Carlisle and I meet eyes as one lands on his cheekbone.

"Oh, shit," Before the expletive leaves my mouth, a wall of water falls on us from the sky.

The guys immediately throw the food in the coolers before running to their tents. Carlisle and I sprint into his tent as the rain and wind almost carry it away.

"Should we?" I ask, not wanting the decision to leave land on my shoulders. I prayed for this rain on Friday, but ending the trip now feels like breaking from your dance partner before the song is over.

"I don't think we have a choice." As he says it, the wind tries to lift the tent from the stakes.

Carlisle runs out of the tent hollering above the rain, "Come on guys. _Let's go, let's go, let's go."_

Several minutes later, I slide the van door shut and jump in the passenger seat. I turn back around to look at the guys. We're all here and all soaked to the bone. For a few seconds, we silently stare at each other, catching our breaths, and then break into hysterical laugher.

"That was the fastest packing in the history of camping," Embry says.

"Do we have everything?" Carlisle asks.

"RC, I don't think we'll have a clue what we packed until we unload the van," Brady says.

I look over to Carlisle's wide grin. He might not be 'Carlisle' to them, but as of this moment, he has a nickname.

I grab a couple of dry flannels from my backpack. After a few minutes of being pulled over to the side of the road, most have found some sort of dry shirt to change into.

The van is quiet for the first part of the trip. I believe each one of us is reflecting on our weekend amongst the trees.

"RC?" Embry begins, solidifying the new nickname. "Next year, can we try for a two day trip again?"

"Yes, I think we should," I answer before Carlisle has the chance to.

"It sounds like a done deal, then," Carlisle says, glancing into the rearview mirror.

The announcement is met with happy sounds and a smattering of applause from the gaggle of young men.

I settle back into my seat, watching the dark road ahead of us, and continue my contemplation, my series of what ifs: _What would I be like today if I didn't lose my parents? Would I have had sex earlier?_ _What if I lost my parents, but didn't have Carlisle and Esme? Did I really drink that much? _

_What if I didn't have sex with Bella the first night we met? Would we be more in love? Could we be?_

_No. _I shake free of these thoughts. Bella said it herself, 'God brought us together.' _You did, didn't you, God?_ The rest doesn't matter.

I'm going to see her tonight. It finally sinks in. I want to nuzzle my nose in the hollow place at the base of her throat.

I want to breathe her.

"Cell phones are working," one of the guys calls from the back.

"Call your parents and tell them we're heading home," Carlisle says.

"Do you want me to call Esme for you?"

"No, thank you. I was thinking about surprising her."

"Yeah?"

"Yes. Probably too late for dinner, but I thought after I drop off you and the guys, I'd pick up a nice bottle of wine."

"Carlisle, you are romantic, aren't you?" He raises one eyebrow, knowingly. "Hey, would you mind dropping me off after the wine shop? I think I'll surprise Bella with a bottle." _Or maybe two, drunk Bella comes to mind. _

"In the mood to woo?"

"I'm all about the woo, Carlisle."

About thirty minutes outside of Seattle, I hear my cell phone vibrate in my backpack. It takes me a while to find it, and when I do, I see there are three text messages. The first two Bella sent yesterday morning:

E,  
I miss you already.  
B

_Interesting, she sent the same message I did, but mine never made it._

E,  
Never forget, I love you.  
B

_I won't, Bella, I won't. _

The next one was just sent from Alice:

Edward,  
Tell Bella to call me.  
She won't answer.  
-Alice Brandon

I have to read it again, because it doesn't make sense.

Carlisle notices my stare at the phone. "Edward, is something wrong?"

"I don't know. I'm confused," I answer automatically.

I call Alice:

"Hi Edward."

"Hey Alice. I got your text."

"Yes, Bella isn't answering. Can you put her on for me?"

My whole body goes numb with the exception of my thundering heartbeat.

"Alice, Bella isn't with me."

"She's not?"

"Alice, I've been away since yesterday morning. I've been on a retreat."

I pray for some sort of recognition in Alice's voice, but the other end of the line is silent.

"Retreat?"

"Yes, yes, Alice. I've been away on a retreat," my voice is hot with anger, "isn't this _girls' weekend,_ Alice?"

"Edward, I don't know what you're talking about… we had girls' night on Friday and then she went over to your place."

"Where was she last night, Alice?"

"Edward… I… I …" Her answers aren't coming fast enough, I'm beginning to sweat.

"Was she in the apartment last night?"

"No," she breathes as the realization sinks in.

We sit silently as the blood drains from my face. Something is wrong, horribly wrong.

"Edward, Edward, listen to me. Bella does this sometimes. She disappears. She likes alone time. Let's not freak out, Edward," her voice betrays her, Alice is as panicked as I.

"Really, Alice, she does this sometimes? She lies to everyone so she can get _alone time_?" My voice drips with bitter sarcasm and I feel Carlisle's hand on my shoulder.

"No, no, she never lies."

"Think about it, Alice, when was the last time Bella didn't return one of your texts?"

"Forks."

"And we both know how well she was doing in Forks."

"Edward, that's it, she must have gone to Forks. Let me call Charlie. No wait, I'll call Angela, just in case. I don't want to upset Charlie."

_Yes, yes, she must be in Forks. _

"Alright, call me right back as soon as you know anything."

_Please God, what's happening? _

"Edward?"

I swallow and look at Carlisle. "Bella is missing."

Carlisle hits the accelerator and my back presses into the seat. I squeeze the phone tighter and tighter. _I bet I could crush it. _

"Edward, call Esme, see if she's seen her."

I hit speed dial and she answers on the first ring. It's a short conversation; she knows nothing.

I end the call and experience a surge on energy, increasing exponentially with each second I wait for Alice's call. I can't sit still. I want to run. My knees bounce from pent up adrenalin.

_Where is she, God? Please let her be okay._

The vision of my wall of windows, smeared with Bella's handprints, flashes in my mind. _What if she's locked in a nightmare somewhere?_ My stomach tightens. I clasp my hands behind my head and press my elbows into my knees.

_What if she's dead?_

"Calm, Edward. Count to ten." Carlisle's voice tries to soothe.

_1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10_

_Where could she be? I have no logic. I can't think. _

_1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10_

"Why the fuck hasn't Alice called?"

_I shouldn't have come here. _

I text Alice:

Still waiting.

"Try calling Bella."

_Yes, of course._

The phone rings until I get her voicemail:

"Hi, this is Bella…"

"Bella, it's Edward. I don't know where the fu- I don't know where you are, but please call me the _second_ you get this. I hope to God you're okay."

_I shouldn't have come here. _

I call Sue.

"Well, Edward. Isn't this a nice surprise?"

"Hey, Sue," I try to keep my voice as casual for as long as I can, "are you with Charlie right now?"

"No, I'm not. Do you need his number?"

"No, no. Have you seen Bella? Did she come to Forks this weekend?"

"No, she didn't." _FUCK_ "Why, did something happen?"

"She's missing."

"Missing? I don't understand."

I do my best and fumbling my way through the brief story. Bella lied to Alice and me and is now missing.

"Oh, Bella. She should not have done that." Sue's voice doesn't have the slightest trace of urgency.

"Done what?"

"Well, she shouldn't have lied to get some time alone." _Again with the fucking alone time. _"I guess she must have had her reasons." Right now, Sue's laid-back response is driving me insane. _She doesn't get it._

"Sue, do you know about Bella's nightmares? Do you know how dangerous it is for her to sleep alone?"

"Yes, Edward. I am very aware of her nightmares, I just choose to remain calm in situations like these." Though she is annoyed, her strong voice actually begins to cool me down. "We need to be logical. She's not at the apartment, but is her car in the garage?"

"I don't know. We're driving there now."

"Well, is Alice in the apartment?"

"I guess so. I don't know for sure. I just know that Bella isn't answering her phone."

"There are plenty of reasons Bella isn't answering the phone. She could be in the bathtub, or taking a nap…" _Yes, yes, Sue is making sense. Bella might be just fine. If she is, I'm going to wring her neck. _

Another call comes through; it's Alice.

"Sue, Alice is trying to ring through. Can I call you back?"

"Yes, Edward. Let me know when you find her."

I flip the call.

_I shouldn't have come here._

"Alice?"

"Edward, she's not in Forks and I called around, no one has seen her." Alice's voice sounds different, quieter but no less frightened.

"Are you at the apartment now?"

"No, I'm not." _Oh, thank God, Bella might be there. _

"Edward, I'm at Jasper's..." _Oh._ "and he wants to talk to us on speakerphone."

"Hey, Edward." _No!_ He's using his cajoling therapist voice. _Something is wrong, definitely wrong._ "Listen, I think it would be a good idea if Alice stays here and I go check the apartment."

"No, no, I'll be there soon."

I look over to Carlisle and he says, "I'm taking you straight there."

_Jasper and Bella's consultation… he knows something. _

Crouching down, my head by my knees I seethe into the phone, "Jasper, what do you know?"

"Calm down, Edward, both of you calm down. I am sure Bella is fine. I think it would be best if _I_ check to see if she's in the apartment."

"What. Do. You. Know?" I ask with more venom than before.

"You know I can't tell you," he says quietly, lacking a satisfactory level of remorse.

I end the call.

"I shouldn't have co-"

"_Don't_." Thank God, Carlisle cuts me off before I say something stupid.

We're fewer than ten minutes from Bella's, but Carlisle slows the van, pulling to the side of the road.

"What are you doing? We're almost there."

"You need to throw something."

"What?"

"You heard me."

He's right; I know he's right. I'm about to smash my hand through the windshield I'm so angry… worried.

"What about the guys?" I restrain my voice for only us to hear.

"Teachable moment," he says as I grab the door handle. Before the van comes to a full stop, I jump out.

The first thing I pick up is a stick, not much heaver than the kindling we used for the fire. I hurl it toward the trees and don't even wait to see where it goes. I pick up a stone, and throw. A heavy rock, and throw. It takes less than a minute, but I get into a rhythm of bend, pickup, throw—my abs contracting, my delts, glutes, hamstrings—every muscle engages in hurling rocks and wood beyond the line of trees. I throw until I've cleared the space around me, until I dull the sharp edge of fear.

I jump back in, out of breath. Carlisle immediately takes off for the apartment.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you."

I turn around to the guys, but I'm thrown off by their wide-eyed stares. They've been watching the whole thing.

"Sorry guys, I'm… I'm sort of having a little personal emergency here. Let's ah… maybe we can do this again in the spring. Can we do that Carlisle?"

"Yes. Good idea."

They don't say anything, simply continue to stare. I meet eyes with Seth and I'm sure he'll never want to have sex now.

As we start to pull up to the building, I crane my neck to see the apartment window. _The light is on, she's here; I know it._ Carlisle pulls into the parking garage, I see Bella's beat, red Ford Escort.

"Do you want me to wait?"

"No, thanks Carlisle."

"Call me as soon as you know."

"I will."

I jump out of the van and to run for the elevator, dialing Alice along the way.

"Edward?"

"I think she's here. I'm going up now."

"Oh, thank God." Suddenly, her voice changes, "Listen to me, Edward, you need to calm down. If you dare yell at her, I will rip your balls off. _Do you understand me?_ Keep your shit together or, so help me God, I will rip them off with my bare hands."

I believe she will.

_1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10_

* * *

A/N

Oh, no! Bella what have you done? Has she done anything? Is this simply some alone time?

Will Edward 'keep his shit together?'

I hope to update again in about a week.

I'd love to hear what you think.

Much Love,

Liz x


	22. Pieces

**Hello Everyone! Today is my birthday and, as a gift to all of us, I wanted let you off of the tenterhooks.**

Thank you for continuing to read and for your heart-felt reviews of the last chapter.

Thank you to Songster and Elli~Iris for your help.

Much thanks to Team SGMR: orangeappeal, robsjenn, and to Sunshine for helping me get this out ASAP.

Recap: Alice is at Jasper's, Edward is heading up to Alice and Bella's apartment… O.o.….

* * *

.

Chapter Twenty-two  
Pieces

.

.

_1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8- Oh, Fuck it!_

I exit the elevator, run to the door and pound my fist so loudly, I think I could crack it.

"Hold on."

_She's home. _

Fear drains from my body replaced with a tidal wave of rage. Impulsively, I cover the peephole with my thumb. I don't know why—more evidence of her recklessness?

"_Oh, shit_," I hear her say on the other side of the door. _That's right, Bella, caught in a lie._

The door swings open. Bella wears a counterfeit smile. "Edward. What a surprise."

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

She blinks at me, walking backwards as I follow her in. "I… I live here. W-What are you doing here?"

"You opened the door without knowing who it was."

"I knew it was you. I looked in Alice's peephole."

I turn around and remember the lower peephole I had made for Alice.

"You didn't know it was me." I say continuing to walk her backwards.

"Yes I did. Of course I did. I-I'd know those jeans anywhere. Those are your sexiest pair," her voice shakes.

_Sexiest pair? _She distracts me and I pause for a second. _Oh, no you don't, Bella._

"Where have you been, Bella?" My voice is cold and quiet, as we walk through the living room.

"I don't know what you mean. I've been here…" Her fingers graze the back of the couch as she backs up.

"Where were you last night, Bella?" I am vibrating with ire, my hands balled up into fists at my sides.

"Last night?" Her eyes are huge, black. _Are you cheating on me?_

"_Where the fuck were you last night?" _My voice bounces off the walls.

"I-I-was at the condo. I left a note."

"A note?" I cock my head. Nothing makes sense.

Bella presses herself against the wall. "Edward, Edward… you're scaring me. I know you're mad, but please, you're scaring me."

_I'm scaring her?_

My eyes trickle over her body. She's wearing pajamas… and hospital socks. I watch her chest rise and fall in quick pants. I hear her.

The strap on her camisole falls off her shoulder, but she does nothing to fix it. She's trembling.

_I'm scaring her._

I reach out to touch her, but she flinches and raises her hands defensively, as if I would hurt her.

_Oh, Bella. Oh, Lord. _

I grab her wrist and pull her against my chest. The quickness, the fear, makes her yelp.

She struggles for a moment, pushing her fists against my chest, but then I hold her so tightly, she can't move. With one hand cradling head, and one around her waist, I whisper, "I didn't mean to scare you."

When her fists uncurl, I hug her more tightly. "Isabella, you scared the shit out of me. Do you have any idea…"

"I know, I'm so sorry. I didn't think you'd… how did you… did you end the trip because of me?" He voice is muffled in my chest; I can't let up on my grip.

_She's alive. She's here. Thank you, God. _

"Early, the rain… we came home early." I can barely speak as the fear, the rage, everything, evaporates. "Alice called me. She's looking for you." Bella's body seizes in my arms and then she nods. "You have to call." I loosen my grip.

She pulls away, looking dazed. "My phone?" she says, taking steps away from me and trying to find pockets in pajamas that have none. "My phone?"

"It's right here." I pick up her phone from the couch and hand it to her. I must have done a number on her; she seems disoriented and she stares at the screen for a long time.

"Is the ringer off?"

"No, I kept it charged. I must have fallen asleep," she says confused, still looking at the screen.

I take out my own phone, "Do you want me to call Alice?"

"No. I'll call," she says quietly.

As Bella calls Alice, I send a text to Esme, Carlisle, and Sue:

Bella is home.  
She's fine.  
Thanks for your help.  
-Edward

"Alice…" Bella says, then goes quiet as she sits on the couch and buries her head in her hand.

I can hear Alice screaming at her from where I stand a few yards away.

"Al—"

"Yes, I know. I'm sor—"

"I fell—"

"I fell asleep."

Alice barely lets Bella get in a single word.

"The condo."

"Yes, yes, it was stupid."

"Please don't. Stay there, Alice, I'm fine."

"Yes, he is… no he didn't."

"Alice, he didn't… please."

Stretching her arm behind her, Bella hands me the phone. "Alice wants to talk to you," she mutters.

"You yelled at her, didn't you Edward?" Alice snaps.

"Me? You yelled at her."

"_I _am allowed to yell at her, you are not. Got it?"

I look at Bella, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head in her hands.

"Edward, do I need to draw you a picture?" Even through the phone I can see the picture: Alice the Hawk, swooping down to protect her baby bird. _Am I the predator?_

"No, I get it."

Alice sighs, exasperated. "Edward, you know I love you, but I will not sit by and watch Bella exchange one abusive relationship for another…"

"What?"

"You yelled at her and you've only known her for _three weeks_. Check yourself, Edward. You are dangerously close to…"

"Alice, that's not fair…"

"Stop it. _Stop it, both of you!_" Bella stands and screams at us. I've never seen her so angry. "Goddamn it! I am an adult woman who wanted to spend a night alone. The way I went about it was stupid and I'm sorry, but the two of you are not allowed to take it out on each other. You can be mad at me, but this bickering stops now. Both of you, apologize."

My mouth hangs opens in shock. Alice is silent on the other end, and I'm sure she heard every word.

"Fucking apologize!"

"I'm sorry," we quickly mumble at the same time.

"Now give me the phone," Bella reaches out and I hand over her phone. "Alice…"

I walk into the kitchen, trying to process all that has happened. In the last hour, I've experienced nearly every emotion I've ever had. Bella knows I'd never hurt her, I think, but I shouldn't be surprised she cowered; she flinched. I close my eyes. What would my father say? _I'm sorry, Dad._

"Hi Jasper… Yes, I'm fine…"

I forgot about Jasper. I look out into the living room and watch Bella walk into the corner, whispering into the phone.

A sickening feeling settles in my gut; something is wrong. Bella wouldn't lie unless she had a reason. This isn't over. _What does he know?_

_Lord, I beg you—serenity, serenity, serenity. _

Slowly, I start to notice the obvious clues: Bella is in pajamas already and looks ashen with shadows under her eyes; a bowl of cereal, half eaten, in the kitchen sink; a bottle of Tylenol PM on the kitchen counter. I walk out into the living room again and see a bottle of Nyquil on the coffee table. _She can't sleep._

Bella ends the call and leans her head against the wall for what must be a full minute. I watch her pull herself together and stagger to me. _Yes, she's exhausted._

"Um… sorry about that," she says, pushing her feet into a pair of sneakers. "I was thinking we should go to your condo." _Our condo._ "If you're not too mad to spend the night together. I understand if you'd rather not." Her voice is flat and she can't make eye contact with me.

"No. I mean, yes, let's go to the condo," I say, watching her.

Bella's car keys scrape across the kitchen counter as she drags them off and walks to the door.

"Bella?"

"Yes?" She swings her body around and looks at me.

"Um, love… do you think you should put on a coat or maybe get dressed? It's cold outside."

Bella looks down at her pajamas and laughs that fake, nervous laugh I haven't heard in ages. Glancing around the room, her eyes land on the evidence that reveals her weekend, before uneasily meeting my eyes.

"I don't know what I was thinking. I'll just be a sec." Bella flashes a nervous, fake smile, before rushing into her bedroom, nearly tripping on the way.

After giving some distance, I follow her. Quietly, I push open the bedroom door and find Bella with her back to me, hands shoved in her hair, looking around her uncharacteristically disheveled room.

She notices something on her nightstand and snatches it, clutching whatever it is to her body.

"Bella?"

A sharp inhale, and she petrifies.

I walk up behind her and place my hands on her bare, cold shoulders.

"Bella," I hear the panic rise in her quickening breaths, "hush, it's okay."

"I'll be out in a minute. I-I just need a minute." Bella crosses her arms in front of her, tucking her hand and whatever she's holding, between her arm and her ribs.

"No, Bella," I whisper against her temple as I slide my arms over hers. "I'm going to stay here and you're going to give me whatever you're holding."

I feel the alarm in Bella's body; hear it in her breath. "It's okay. I'm not mad. I'm not mad." And it is the truth. God has granted me a quiet mind and a soft voice. Instinctively, I know that this hiding and lying is to protect me, to protect Alice. Bella doesn't have a selfish cell in her being.

I press my lips to her temple and wait. Like the raindrops from hours ago, tears splash silently on my forearm. I glide my lips along her face, from her cheek to her temple, back and forth, back and forth, hoping to calm her.

"It's okay, Bella," I murmur against her skin and open my palm. "Just put it in my hand."

"I'm sorry," she chokes out behind a sob.

"I know. I know, Bella," I continue stroking her face with my lips. "You're tired, aren't you, love?"

"Yes. I'm so, so tired," she stutters as the tears continue to fall.

"Just put it in my hand, Bella." My open palm awaits. What she is hiding has no meaning for me. Less than hour ago, I feared she might be dead. All I want now is to hold her as she falls asleep, care for her as she cares for me.

"Everything feels worse when we're tired. Give it to me and then we can go to sleep, okay?"

Slowly, Bella places her trembling fist in my palm, opens her fingers, and slides her hand away.

An empty prescription bottle.

_Jesus. She's overdosed._

I spin her around, nearly lifting her off of the ground. "Bella, how many did you take? Did you take the whole bottle?"

"What? No. NO. _NO_. Never. I didn't take any."

She looks horrified, latching onto my shoulders.

"Tell me, please tell me."

"Edward, I would never, EVER do that… I would never do that to you, to Charlie… NEVER…"

We sink to the floor. I think my heart stopped. Bella straddles my lap, holding my face, and continues her vehement plea that echoes in my mind: _Never, ever, ever…_

Another kind of urgency suddenly obscures my thoughts, my unanswered questions.

"_Never, ev-"_

I crash my mouth to hers. I can taste her shock, and then Bella molds her lips to mine, and bows to my need as I plunge my tongue into her willing mouth. My hands find the neckline of her thin camisole. In one second I'm pulling it down, and in the next, I'm ripping it open.

I need to taste her, consume her, feel her from the inside, it is the only way I can convince myself she is here, alive, safe. It is a spiritual need, not a physical one. Lips, chin, throat, I ravish her body with my mouth, sucking and biting every inch of her sweet flesh my lips can find.

Roughly, I lift her soft breast to my mouth and suck her hard nipple like it will give me life. Pinching and pulling, I feel her other nipple lengthen in my fingers until my mouth finds it's new home.

Bella makes quick work of my fly; her hand wraps around and pulls me free.

Our hands are pulling her pajama bottoms down, away, as Bella lies back, pulling me on top of her. My last coherent thought: _Why didn't I hug her the second she opened the door?_

She is under me.

I am pushing into her.

My back arches and I cry an ungodly sound. It is singularly the most glorious sensation of my life—better than orgasm. Coming in Bella signals the end, entering her is only the beginning.

I pull back out, feeling every inch of her body, and slam back in, unable to control what my body does.

Bella lifts her hips to me as the toes of my boots dig into the carpet. I dive into her again and again, moving us across the floor, and wanting to crawl completely inside of her.

The pressure builds all too soon. My fingers curl against the carpet and I drop my head as her rushed words reach me, _"It's okay, you're okay, we're okay…"_

Now certain that I have never loved a creature more than Bella, I will my eyes to stay open, wanting never to lose site of her again. I meet her wide-eyed stare as my body quakes ferociously.

"_You're alight, Edward."_

"_MyGodBella_," I whimper as my body shatters to pieces and I empty myself into her. "_Ungh, ungh, ungh_…"

I collapse, my ear over her heart, _thum-thump_, and listen to the rhythm slow.

Her clean, herb scent…

Her fingers in my hair…

Her heartbeat…

Her soothing voice, "Shhh, you're alright Edward. We're alright."

Bella is my sedative, my lullaby.

I lick my lips and taste salty tears. They must be my own.

~o~

I open my eyes and stare at an unfamiliar patch of the ceiling. I am stretched out across the floor and my favorite pillow cradles my head. The living room light is on; Bella must be in there.

Wiggling my toes and brushing my fingers over my fly, I realize I'm dressed but my boots are off. Bella took care of me; she always does. I look at my watch; I only dozed off for an hour or so; it's still early.

For a while, I lie here, going through the events of the evening. _I mauled her_. When I sit up, I see the prescription bottle, crumpled, under the bed. I bend back the cracked, folded plastic and read:

Diazepam (Valium)  
Dosage: Two every six hours or as needed for muscle pain.  
Count: 8  
5 mgs  
Refills Remaining: 0

_Bella has been on Valium?_ I rest my back against the bed and think about this for minute, not panicked, just confused.

_Muscle pain?_

Oh, now I remember, Bella's Valium prescription from the hospital, for her sore muscles following the accident.

'_I didn't take any_,' she said. I figure she must be out and now she can't sleep.

Bella has been on Valium, _while I've been with her._ I don't like this idea.

_Lord, why didn't she tell me, why didn't she trust me enough? _

The answer comes so quickly, I almost laugh. _If I were Bella, I wouldn't tell Alice or me, certainly not Charlie._

'_I made life Hell for you and Esme.'_  
'_No you didn't Edward, you tried so hard to do everything but.'_

_Oh, the stupid shit I did. As stupid as this? Maybe... Yes, definitely. _

_How many refills? How often? When?_ I check myself to see if I'm ready for this conversation. I am.

I venture out into the living room and find Bella lying on the couch, in my t-shirt, reading. I shuffle my feet so I don't startle her.

"Oh. Oh, hi, Edward." Bella's eyes are nearly swollen shut. Between the dark circles and puffiness, she looks like she could be walking out of a boxing ring.

She puts the book on top of pile of others on the coffee table.

"Hey, Bella." Thank you Lord, for giving me my soft voice. "You're still awake?"

"Mmm-hmm. I think I can finally sleep, but I didn't want to before we had a chance to talk." She looks so ashamed, unable to meet my eyes. It breaks my heart.

"Scoot up."

Bella sits up and I crawl behind her on the couch, opening my legs on either side of her. I wait for her to lean back on me, but she stays seated upright until I put my hands on her shoulders and prompt her, "Come on, lie down."

A nervous exhale leaves her lips as she rests her head on my chest.

"Thank you for waiting up."

Bella snorts, "Do _not_ thank me."

"Isabella, you are fighting exhaustion so that I can have answers. I appreciate that, please do not reject my gratitude." _Soft voice, Edward. _

"Kay."

"While we are at it, I appreciate the pillow, the boots and, um, packing me back up," _for lack of better wording. _

"You're welcome, Edward. Sorry I couldn't wake you, get you into bed," she says quietly, her voice still remorseful.

_Here we go..._

"So, Valium?"

She turns her head into my chest and begins to sob, "I'm so sorry."

I splay my hand on top of her head and let her cry for a bit to get it out.

"Okay, okay. Shh. Shhh. Now, I'm going to tell you something... are you listening?"

With a shuddering breath, she tries to stop her crying.

"Isabella, I understand. I know how sorry you are. You don't have to say it anymore. Believe me when I say I really do understand." She turns her head up to me. "Okay?"

From the way she looks at me, I think she knows what I am saying. She knows I've made similar mistakes.

Bella nods and rests her head back on my chest.

"I know how tired you are, and I want you to sleep soon, but I have some questions first. Do you think you can answer some questions?"

"Ask me anything. I'll tell you anything."

I can't help but to chuckle.

She looks up at me again, "What's so funny?"

"You. You are funny. You're going to be an open book?"

"I always am, aren't I?" _Oh, those doe eyes, even swollen shut, will be the end of me._ "I'm private with some people, but I think I tell you everything."

I shake my head at her.

Bella digs her teeth into her bottom lip so hard, it turns white around her scarring flesh.

I pull her chin, releasing her lip. "Let's be careful with your wound, love." She runs her tongue over the healing cut.

"When am I secretive?"

I think about it for a moment, but I can't come up with a specific time she hasn't answered a question. It is difficult to say.

"Edward, I try not to talk about… him. But it's only because I don't think you want to hear it. I wouldn't want to hear it, and the one time I did talk about him, it was horrible."

"I see your point."

She presses her cheek back to my chest, and I wonder if her hiding has mostly been in my mind. I don't want to hear about him, Bella is right about that.

"Well, for now, let's just get it all out, okay?"

"Okay."

"You got on the Valium after the accident, for sore muscles."

"Yes."

"And when did you run out of them?"

"I took my last piece Wednesday night."

"Piece?"

Pinching her fingers together and holding them up, she says, "I just take little tiny pieces. I smash them up and take little pieces."

"Wednesday night was your last piece. When did you sleep last?"

"A whole night?"

"Yes."

"Wednesday," she whispers.

"Damn it, Bella." I scoot down further and wrap my arms around her.

"I'm okay."

"No, no you're not."

Though I know the answer, I have to ask, "You couldn't tell me, tell Alice?"

"I thought about it, I swear. But I couldn't tell you when things were rough, bring us down more, and it was wrong to tell when things were good… each piece would be my last…" _She is rambling_. "No more burdening either of you… and Edward, you, you, you would never sleep if I told you, and, and…"

_So much fatigue._

"Slow down, Bella." She shakes her head and sits up, between my legs, facing me.

"Um… I… I thought I would have to tell you on Wednesday and then you mentioned the retreat and I thought maybe, just maybe I could get off of them on my own and no one would ever have to know… my therapy starts tomorrow… and I'm, I'm, I'm… I'm, I'm so tired," Bella snivels and wipes away new tears.

"I know."

"And my worst fear was that one of you would call. I've had my phone in my hand all weekend…" she holds up her empty hand. "Where's my phone?"

_Yep, she's gone._

"Don't worry about the phone, Bella."

"But I kept it in my hand in case you called. I must have fallen asleep when Alice called. I slept right through it." Again, Bella stares blankly at her empty hand positioned to hold a phone.

"Of course you slept through it. Please, lie back down Bella."

"Okay, I'm going to lie down now," she says as she lies back on my chest.

"Good idea."

_I should let her sleep, but there is still more I need to know._

"A few more questions?"

"Mmm."

"How many refills did you have, how many in all?"

"One refill. I tried not to, couldn't help it…" she mumbles into my shirt.

_Sixteen 5 mg pills in more than sixteen days? That isn't much at all._

"Did you take anything else? Any other pills?"

"Mmm-mm," she shakes her head.

"So, sixteen pills?"

"No… lost some."

"Lost some?"

"Down the sink, sometimes pieces flew, couldn't find…"

I don't know whether to laugh or cry at the pitiful image of Bella trying to find pieces of Valium, maybe trying to fish them from the drainpipe.

She says something else into my shirt and begins to cry again. Pulling her head up, I ask what she's trying to say.

"I'm a drug addict," she sobs.

_Good Lord, help us. And please stop me from inappropriate laughter. _

"No you're not, Bella. Sixteen pills are not that many."

"Fewer, _fewer_ than sixteen."

"Okay, you are definitely not a drug addict."

"That's what Jasper said."

I bristle at his name. _He should have told me._

"What else did he say?"

"I should tell you right away, but I didn't. He hates me now."

I feel my shirt drench again. _She's so tired, let her sleep._

"I'm sure he doesn't hate you. Let's not worry about him." I can feel her shaking under my hands. "Calm down, Bella. You're going to make yourself sick."

_Please don't get sick._

I go through the many questions in my mind. _She is nearly incoherent; I need to prioritize. _

"Can we go to the condo soon?"

"Yes, love."

"Oh, good."

"A few more questions, first."

"Kay."

"When do you take the pills? Do you take them when you're with me?"

"I try not… sometimes."

She starts to purr. I go from rubbing her back to giving her a small shake.

"Bella? Bella when do you take them?"

"For work, to eat, when I wake up."

"In the morning? When you wake up in the morning?"

"Bad dreams. When I wake from bad dreams."

_Damn it, damn it, damn it. I knew you had more nightmares, or at least, I should have. How could I be so blind?_

"How often do you have bad dreams?" She's asleep again. "Bella? Bella?"

_Let her sleep, Edward. _All that is good in me wants her to sleep; the sixteen-year old wants answers.

"Condo?" Though it is only a mumble, it still sounds desperate.

"Okay, Bella, okay. Enough questions."

Reaching her hand towards the coffee table, Bella says, "Book."

"You want your book?"

"Mmm."

I think she's delirious. "No reading right now, Bella, time to sleep."

"Please, book."

I look over at the pile; who knows, maybe they help her sleep. _Which one?_ There is a romance novel, the book cover shows a guy with huge pecs, _intimidating_, a book of meditations, _that's a good idea_, and a book on sexual play. _What the fuck is this?_ Oh, our Amazon order must have come in.

"Notebook," she says.

On the bottom of the pile is a medium-sized, thick, spiral bound notebook.

"Here it is, Bella." I try to hand it to her, but she nudges it away.

"For you."

"For me?"

"My journal. Take it."

_Holy shit. _Bella's heart and mind, captured on paper, held in my own hands. As if it would suddenly catch on fire, I drop it back on the table, and stare, waiting for the flames.

"Condo?" she asks again. There is no way I am waking her to go to the condo.

"Yes, love, we're here. We're at the condo."

"Oh, good," she says and her muscles relax.

I continue to stoke my hands in long circles over my t-shirt she is wearing.

"I like this big bed."

"Me too."

"I like to pretend," she says, clearly talking in her sleep.

"Pretend what?"

"Your condo is our condo, our home."

"It _is_ our home."

"Oh, good."

She tugs at my shirt, and says a version of my name that sounds like, Medmerd.

"Yes, love?"

"Blow. We forgot."

She tilts her head and I lean in to blow in her ear, but stop myself. _I am a pathetic fool. _I lean back away shaking my head at the ridiculousness of it all. A cognitive suggestion to ward off nightmares, or a childish superstition—either way it is useless.

"Medmerd?" she tugs again.

"No more ear blowing, Bella, it doesn't work."

"Nooo." She wrestles herself from sleep and crawls the last few inches up my body, until we're face to face. "It _does_ work."

"You still have nightmares."

"Noo, please. It's magical; it's your love." The slits of her eyes glisten; she is on the verge of tears again.

"Okay, hush." I take her face in my hands, turn her head, and blow, "Out, out bad dreams."

"Thank you," she murmurs and crashes her head onto my shoulder.

_Bella is right; I'm not willing to let that go. _

Within minutes, Bella goes from her typical purr to full-on snoring.

_This is it; she'll be in REM sleep, primetime for nightmares. _

I just lie here thinking, mentally checking off answers to my questions. When Bella stirs, is restless, I rub her shoulders until she changes position and falls back asleep.

I glance at the journal again.

Alice's words come to mind. It came from anger and frustration, she didn't mean it—I hope. I wish I apologized before Bella fell off to sleep. _Must apologize as soon as she wakes._

After about an hour, I carry her into the bedroom and make myself a pot of coffee. As I do, I continue to glance at that notebook on the coffee table. It calls to me.

_No, no, she offered it in her sleep. You cannot read it, Edward. _

_Maybe just one look. She wouldn't have to answer my questions if I can look up the answers myself. _

_No. It's wrong. You do not want to see what's in there. _

_She owes this to me._

_Aughhh! God, don't let me do it._

I take a cup of coffee, and the sex book, into her bedroom and pull her desk chair up to the bed.

_Coffee._ _How many times did I wake to the smell of coffee? Bella nearly always woke before I did. I must be a heavy sleeper. She couldn't get me up earlier tonight. I slept through all those nightmares. Damn. _

"Please don't. I'm sorry," Bella moans. "_Please, please…"_

"It's okay," I whisper as I rub her back. She turns over and falls back to sleep.

I open up the sex book to distract me from the journal. After about five seconds, I'm hard. _This is not going to work._

I walk back into the living room and stare at the non-descript notebook.

_You cannot read it, Edward. It's her journal for fuck's sake. _

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

**Sorry for long A/N:**

Valium? All this time? YES.  
And, no, Bella would _never, ever, ever…_

**You know my questions:**

Will he read?

_And_

When was Bella on Valium? If you think back, I bet some of you can guess.

I'll post a guide to Bella's Valium use on the Twilighted Forum on Friday:  
(dot) net/forum/viewtopic(dot)php?f=44&t=15151

Outtakes: I have a Charlie & Sue outtake I've been working on for ages, it is almost done. I hope you understand now why I couldn't have a Bella outtake until now. So, I have several outtake ideas and I'm curious what you are interested in. Bella POV chapter? Edward flashback? Something else? Let me know.

AND: When Seth and Mary lose their virginity, I hope it is a sweet as one of my favorite one-shots, Forever and Ever by theladyingrey42 (you can find the link under my favs).

So… I'd love to know what you think.


	23. Recovery

A/N Thank you so much for reading, reviewing and sending Birthday wishes. I had a wonderful B-Day.

Thank you to **Midnight Cougar** for her recommendation of SGMR on **Robattack** and **Kat** for her recommendation on **Cafemom** and **KitandKaboodle.** Links to both of these lovely reviews are on my profile.

Thanks to Team SGMR: robsjenn, orangeapeal, and Sunshine for editing this bad boy.

So, Bella is sleeping and Edward is staring at her journal...

* * *

Chapter Twenty-three  
Recovery

.

.

.

_No, I don't want to read her journal. It would be like reading her mind. Well, I do want to read it, but I won't. _

I carefully pick up the romance novel, trying hard not to touch her journal, as if it would jump into my hands, open up, and start talking to me. _With my luck, it would._

When I return to the bedroom, I see Bella is squirming again and saying my name. "Shhh, it's okay, Bella," I say, rubbing her back and hating the idea that I'm in her nightmares. _What do I do in her nightmares?_ _Must add that to questions._

She turns and rubs her eyes. "Edward?"

"Back to sleep," I whisper.

She blinks awake and reaches out for my hand. "Come to bed, Edward. I didn't want this—you staying up. Please come to bed."

"I will, Bella… soon, I promise."

"Mmm." Though she tries to fight it, she falls immediately back to sleep.

I sit down on the desk chair I moved next to her bed, and turn on her small, clip-on reading lamp, hoping the light won't wake her.

_My first romance novel, here we go…_

_Derek Storm slammed his office door, rattling the glass. He walked to his file cabinet, pulled out a bottle of scotch and poured himself a glass to steel himself. Never before had he seen a case like this, nor had he ever met a woman like Willow Haven—and he never would again. _

_Derek laughed to himself as he drank his mother's milk and stared at the etched glass that read "Derek Storm, Private Detective." His dick was anything but private. _

How can they read this shit? _Keep reading, Edward._ _This is a good distraction from the journal._

.

I am on page 236 and praying that these two tortured souls can make it. They're just so right for each other. It would be heartbreaking if Willow's diagnosis comes back positive. Should Derek really tell her what he found about her long lost child? I should jump to the end… No, that would be wrong… _What the FUCK am I doing? _

I walk out into the living room and drop the book on the coffee table. I need a distraction from the distraction.

_Lord, did she really want me to read? _

I pick up the notebook and run my fingers over the black, plastic cover, I shift it in the light and see the '_Mead Five Star'_ emblem shine in metallic gold.

I blow out a long exhale and open the cover. Flipping through several blank pages, I finally land on the first page of Bella's careful penmanship:

_October 7_

_Dear Edward…_

I snap the book closed. _Holy shit. Is this a book filled with letters to me? Oh, fuck. I don't think I can read this after all. _

I stand and lock my hands behind my head, pacing back and forth in front of the coffee table. So many times I accused her of being closed off and now… _What to do? What to do? _If they are letters to me, maybe she does want me to read.

I walk back into the bedroom to watch Bella sleep. _Oh, I wish you were awake so I could know for sure._

Finally, I come up with a plan. I don't have to read, I just need to see if the whole journal is addressed to me.

On the first page is my name, the second page reads, "Dear Bella..." _Okay, Okay, these aren't only letters to me._ Continuing to turn pages, I see mostly letters:

Dear Charlie

Dear God

Dear God

Dear Bella…

Most are addressed to me, God, or Bella. But I see others as I continue:

Mrs. Newton

Carlisle and Esme

Alice

Mike

Mike

Mike…

I close the book and resume my pacing. _I definitely don't want to read the letters to Mike._ In fact, I shouldn't read any of the letters that aren't addressed to me. But I should read the letters that are addressed to me… _I think. _October 7, October 7. What happened on October 7?_ That's the night of the funeral, the night we came back from Forks.  
_

Settling back down on the couch, I brace myself and go back to the first letter:

_October 7_

_Dear Edward Masen, The Beautiful and Kind,_

_Do you like my name for you? I think it's fitting.  
Do you have any idea how beautiful you are when you're sleeping?  
I bet you don't—it's one of the things I love about you.  
Did I just write love? I think I did. _

_Oh, Edward, I'm so, so scared._

_I know I should be protecting my heart, but I fear I've already given it to you.  
I fear I'm not strong enough yet to be all I can be for you.  
I fear you will leave me someday soon, and when you do, my heart won't recover—it will die forever._

_I will try my hardest to be the best Bella I can be._

_Love,_

_Me_

_P.S._

_I still can't believe we took a bath together tonight. I've never done that with anyone. It was the most tender, intimate thing I've ever experienced, more intimate than when we make love. Does that make sense? I'm sorry I cried. _

Several times, I read the letter. With each read, the ache in my chest intensifies. She was… more fragile back then; it was new. I'm sure she feels more secure in the relationship now. _She must._

I walk into the kitchen, wondering if I should stop reading. _Maybe it's better that I can't read her mind. _Searching the kitchen for something to drink, I see an open bottle of white wine in the refrigerator. As I pour myself a glass, I notice changes to Alice's calendar. All of the yellow, unclaimed doctor's and physical therapy appointments, are now taken by Jasper.

_Huh, Alice is at Jasper's now. He must have been here last night. Good for them._

The journal calls to me again. I don't think I can read another letter to me, but I'm curious what she had to say to Esme and Carlisle. Flipping through, I find the letter I'm looking for:

_October 10_

_Dear Esme and Carlisle,_

_Thank you for such a lovely dinner this evening. It is easy to see why you are so important to Edward. _

_This was a strange night for me- I went to your house really hoping you would like me. You see, I'm afraid Edward is keeping me from his parents because I might not measure up. I'm sure they are very sophisticated, and well, I'm not. I'm smart, and a hard worker, and I try to be very nice to everyone—but Edward is pretty terrific and I'm sure they want someone worthy of him. I hoped that if you liked me, you might help them like me. I feel a little guilty about that. _

_Anyway, after I met you, I forgot about all of those worries. You are so welcoming, warm, funny… I could go on and on. If you are friends with them, they must be great too, right? I think they'll like me, and even if they don't, I'll still fight to be with Edward. _

_On another note, I hope you can forgive me for not eating more dinner. I'm sorry if I offended you. You are both great cooks, but my stomach has been upset a lot lately and I can't eat very much. I tried to hide it, but Edward noticed, so I think you did, too. _

_I had something in my purse to help me relax and eat, but sometimes they make me sleepy and I didn't want to risk it. I hope I made the right choice, but I'm not sure I did._

_I'll try to eat more the next time I see you._

_Thank you again._

_Love,_

_Bella_

I close the journal and walk into the kitchen. As I wash my glass, I think back to that night. It was three days after the funeral, Alice was a wreck, Bella was starting back to work the next day, she had hospital socks for me, and I gave her shit for not eating. _I gave her shit for not eating. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid._

That journal is filled with letters; probably several for every night she was awake._ Maybe she wrote to me that night, too. I should see. No, I don't want to see. _

I want to read something from the end of the journal. Something where she's happy or… _fuck, she is happy sometimes, right? _

Quickly, I walk back into the living room and grab the journal, and begin flipping through pages. _There must be thirty or forty letters here. _Occasionally, I see what looks like a list or a poem… I go to towards the end and find one of the lists:

_Rules for Loving Edward—Part Three_

Bracing myself, I sit back down on the couch, and slide my hand over the page so I can only see one line at a time:

_1-Make more food. He loves to eat and he eats __a lot__. He loves my cooking :)  
_

Okay, that was good. Smiley faces are good.

Slowly, I move my hand further down, hoping for another good one:

_2-Don't make Edward mad._

I'm done.

_No, I don't want to read her mind. _

I close the cover, and for some reason, feel compelled to kiss her journal—it is her heart, her mind. As I press my lips to the hard plastic cover, I say good-bye and place it back on the table.

I stretch out on the couch and call to a friend I've neglected tonight, The All Knowing, The All Loving, The All Mighty…

_Hi God, I know you've been close by for the last several hours, thank you. Like usual I have a bunch of stuff I want to thank you for, not the least of which, the retreat. And I also have a bunch of stuff I need your help on… _

.

I walk into the bedroom to check on Bella and find her sitting up in bed, her back propped up on pillows, fully awake.

"Hi Edward," she smiles sweetly, but I can see a bit of wariness in her eyes.

"How long have you been up?"

"A few minutes and I think I have only a few minutes left in me." She smiles sadly, "How is the reading going?"

"Oh, um…" I head to my drawer and take out some pajama pants and a t-shirt. "We're waiting for Willow's prognosis. And Derek, boy that guy is a whore…" Bella begins to giggle and I pull off my t-shirt and put on the clean one. "But I hope for both of their sakes that he finally sees she is the right one for him. Really, I think his sleeping around is just a defense mechanism."

As I pull the drawstrings on my pajamas pants, Bella says, "That stuff is hard to put down, isn't it?"

"You're not kidding."

"Oh, how I adore your sense of humor." She pats the side of the bed she's kept vacant for me. "Come. Shuffy-shuffy."

I crawl into bed beside her and sit with my back up against the headboard and pillows. As we both stare straight ahead at the opposite wall, Bella takes my hand in hers.

"So, how is the other reading going?"

"I didn't read much Bella, only a few sentences, I swear."

I turn my head to see her nod and force the smile to remain on her face.

"Are you mad?"

"Mad? Gosh, no. I told you to read it. I gave it to you."

"Bella you were half-conscious."

Bella rests her head on my shoulder. "A little part of me must have wanted you to read. Of course," she starts to giggle, "there is a huge, huge part of me that is a little freaked right now. I'm not sure which sentences you read, but you're still here, and I don't hear any sirens to take me away, so I'll take it as a good sign."

"Let me tell you what I read…"

In detail, I explain everything I did, from glancing at the first page, to flipping through, to reading the first letter to me and the letter to Carlisle and Esme.

Bella listens quietly, then says, "It could be worse."

"And I read the first two rules in the, 'Rules to Loving Edward' list."

"Oh." Bella sits quietly for a moment as I stroke my thumb over her knuckles. "Do you remember which part? I have a few lists."

"It was part three. The first rule was, 'Make more food. He loves to eat and he eats a lot. He loves my cooking.' And you made a smiley face." _I realize that I've memorized everything I read._ "I do love your cooking, Bella, and I do eat like a horse."

"Thank you, Edward." Bella lifts her head and I lean down and give her a kiss. Her lips feel so soft.

"I read the second rule, too. Um, it was, 'Don't make Edward mad.'"

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"No, no. Don't be sorry. I… I want to apologize for tonight…"

"I know. I want to talk about tonight, too. But there a couple of things I'd like to explain first." Bella runs her tongue over her bottom lip as she struggles to find the words. "For the most part, I wrote in that journal after I woke from nightmares. There's a lot of sad stuff in there, because I was, you know…" she laughs, "I just woke from a nightmare."

"Yeah. I understand. You were processing a lot of shit."

"Exactly. And the entry you read… the first letter to you, I was… I was a mess back then. We just got back from Forks. I was confused and sleep deprived… I guess what I'm saying is that I am much better now." Bella looks up at me to gauge my reaction. "I need you to believe me when I say I'm doing better."

_I hope so, but I'm not convinced. _

"Bella, this weekend… no sleep for _days_?"

"No _solid _nights of sleep. There was a little here and there." She sighs, "I know, I know, I screwed this up. But I wouldn't have thought I could pull it off if I weren't feeling so good. I only had a few pieces last week to sleep, but I was eating, and starting to feel like myself again…"

"The nightmares, Bella."

"Yes, there are still nightmares, but I am able to wake myself from most of them now. It's only falling back to sleep that is tripping me up."

"Most of them?"

She laughs, shakes her head, and lifts our locked hands to kiss the back of my hand. "My Edward, you would catch that." Bella scoots down into bed, I do the same and we face each. "Yes, most of them. I don't think I can wake myself from the limo dream, but hey," she shrugs, "I scream my head off in that dream, so I'm sure I'll wake up someone."

I shake my head, "How can you be so casual about this?"

"I don't know," she gives a half smile and shrugs, "this is me. Right now, I have some problems with sleep. _And_, tomorrow I start therapy. I'm going to work this out."

I sigh and look into her tired, brown eyes.

"Edward, let me show you something." Bella turns over onto her back, pulls away the covers, and lifts her t-shirt up a few inches. "Do you see that?"

"Your underwear? I like them. The polka-dots are cute." _Cotton, lace, I like them all. _

"Thanks. I like this pair, too. Now you see this?" Bella runs her finger across her pelvis.

"Yes, but I'm not sure what I am looking at." _But I like it._

"When I was in Forks, the elastic band didn't touch my stomach, it stretched between the, um, hipbones, but look right here." Bella brushes her finger back and forth over the flesh under her navel that touches the elastic band.

"You're gaining weight?" _I knew she felt heavier when I carried her into the bedroom._

"Yes, yes I am. I told you, the eating is getting better. I have no idea what happened to our bathroom scale, and it doesn't look like you have one, but I can feel it."

_Fess up._

"Bella, I threw out the bathroom scales. Sorry." I wince, apologetically.

"I knew it!" Bella sits up and points her finger at me, "I knew it, I knew it, I knew it." With both hands on my face, she pulls me in and showers me with innocent kisses, laughing.

Sitting back on her heels, she shakes her head and holds her hands to her heart. "Oh, Edward, you pulled me through the last few weeks. Honestly, I don't know what I would have done without you. The English language doesn't have words to adequately express my gratitude… and, though you might not see it now, I hope you will soon, _I am getting better_."

"I do. I see it." _I think._

"Good." Bella yawns and rests her head back down on the pillow.

"I'm going to keep you awake for a little bit longer so I can apologize."

"Oh, yes, tonight." Bella looks up at me and reaches for my hair. Gently, she twists small locks of my hair in her fingers. I close my eyes_. It is so soothing when she does this._ "Edward, I broke one of my most important rules this weekend. Do you know what one of most important rules is?"

"Mm-mm." I shake my head, still feeling her touch.

"Don't make Edward worry about you. It goes hand and hand with making you mad. I thought hiding the Valium from you would stop you from worrying, but it backfired, didn't it?"

"Mmm-hmm." _I think I could fall asleep_.

"Edward, when you… when your… when I can't…"

I open my eyes, no longer sleepy, "My temper?"

"Yes, love, your temper." Bella looks at me with sympathetic, chocolate eyes.

_Don't pity me._

I roll onto my back and stare at the ceiling. "I'm sorry."

"I know you're sorry. I thought maybe we could talk about it."

_Can't I just say I'm sorry and be done with it? _

"Sometimes I feel like I'm jumping in front of an oncoming train, waving my hands. I can get the train to stop, but what if it doesn't someday?"

"What? Do you think I would hurt you? Bella I would never hurt you," I say incredulously. _How could she think that, doesn't she know me?_

"I know, I know. I'm not talking about you hurting me in that way, _physically_…"

Bella goes quiet for a long time; eventually, I glance at her.

"You know what, Edward, it's late and we're both tired, maybe I'm being too sensitive." Bella rolls away, her back to me. "Good night."

_I'm an asshole._ _And I wonder why she doesn't talk more freely with me._

I turn to my side and pull her up to me, against my chest. "Where were we? Oncoming train?"

"Never mind. Let's go to sleep."

"Please?"

"It's been a long night. It can wait for another time."

"_Pleeease_… I'll give you a back rub." I tease, hoping she'll laugh.

"I don't want a back rub." She responds in a teasingly, petulant tone.

"Oh, you are getting a back rub," I lean away and start to snake my hand along the hem of her shirt.

Bella arches her back and turns suddenly serious, "No, really, Edward, don't."

"Bella, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing," she says, pulling down the hem of her shirt.

"Bella, please show me. Remember the rule: don't make Edward worry. Edward is officially worrying."

Bella sighs, sits up, and pulls the back of her t-shirt up to her neck.

_What the fuck? _

I turn on the sidelight and take another look.

"How the hell did you get a sunburn? It's peeling." I go to touch her back, but Bella inhales through her teeth and arches away.

"Did you go to a tanning bed or something?"

"Edward, it's not a sunburn, it's a rug burn," she says quietly.

_A rug burn…? Oh. Oh, God._

"Oh, God, Bella. I… I'm so sorry, I don't know what to say."

Bella turns around to face me.

"It's okay, Edward. You didn't mean to." Bella drops her head in her hands and groans. "I think," she holds her hands to her chest, "I really think, you and I are good at being sweet to each other. Don't you? Don't you think we're good at that?"

I shake my head. I am not where Bella is right now. I'm still watching myself push her across the carpet, marring her perfect skin, and trying to figure out what type of ointment will take away the pain.

Grabbing my face, she says, "Stop beating yourself up. We are good at being sweet. We need to work on being sweet more often and, I don't know, walking away when we're mad."

"Walking away?" _I don't know if I can._

"Or something… I don't know the answer. I just know that sometimes you disappear on me, Edward. I don't know who the other guy is, but it is _not_ you and I'm not sure he's always going to listen to me."

"I know exactly who that guy is." _No, Keith Richards, you are off the hook_. "He's sixteen…" _this sounds stupid._ Bella's eyes encourage me to continue.

"He's sixteen?" she prompts.

"He gets pissed off and takes over." I look away, but feel Bella rubbing her fingers through my scruff. "I'm sorry Bella. This is… I sound stupid." _I want to disappear. _

"Not at all," she whispers. She begins to hum and gently smile. "You haven't shaved in a few days, this feels so soft."

"It does? You like it?" I'm so relieved not to talk about the sixteen-year old.

"Mm-hmm. I like it." She continues to hold my chin and rub her thumb over my jaw. "Let's lie down, baby."

We scoot into bed and I rest my head on Bella's shoulder.

"No wait," I say, and adjust so Bella can lie on her stomach and rest her head on my shoulder.

"Does the sixteen-year old have a name?" With the back of her fingers, Bella continues to stroke my whiskers.

"Nope, he's just me."

"Sixteen was a pretty bad year in the life of Edward Masen."

"I prefer my whole title."

Bella looks up, confused, "Dr. Edward Masen?"

"No."

"Rev. Edward Masen?"

After a moment, the confusion lifts, and the corner of her mouth curls into a half-smile. "Edward Masen, The Beautiful and Kind?"

"That's the one."

Bella giggles, nuzzles her nose in my neck, and runs her fingertips back and forth over my chest.

"You know I haven't showered yet."

"I like it; you smell like man."

"You know, Bella… I want to be kind. I want to live up to my title."

"Edward you _are_ kind, incredibly so."

"It's that little prick that gets in the way."

She peeks her head up. "Be nice to that boy. He is very scared."

_Scared?_ It takes me a moment to absorb her words.

"You know what, Bella. I think you're right. I never thought of him as anything but angry, but maybe he's scared. You are a smart woman."

"Yes, I am… I think we should name him; take care of him."

"Name him? Um… Ed? Ted? Teddy?"

"I like Teddy."

"Speaking of which, where is Pedi tonight?"

"I forgot him at the condo, he is going to be furious when I see him."

Bella yawns again and makes herself more comfortable. "Edward, I think I should tell you…Teddy and I had sex tonight," she whispers like it is a real confession. "But you don't have to worry, because that's the last time he and I are going to do that."

_Those are serious brown eyes looking up at me._

"Yes, it is." I kiss the top of her head and curl my arm more tightly around her neck. "Can I get you something for your back?"

"No thank you. Are you really going to sleep, or are you going to watch me all night?"

"I'll sleep."

"I'm glad," she mumbles.

"Bella? Can I ask you a few questions?"

Burying her face in my chest, Bella laughs, "Sure, this is the best time. Maybe I'll offer my journal, oh, I already did that."

When her giggle dies down, I approach my burning question. "The question is about Mike. It's going to be a hard one, is that okay?"

She pauses for a second and clears her throat. "Go ahead."

"Did Mike ever hit you?"

"No. He never raised a hand…" she pauses and frowns.

"What?"

"It's nothing, but, he would sort of spank me, under the guise of joking, but it always stung… I didn't think much about it until the other day."

"What happened the other day?"

"Well, when you spanked me, it was so different. With you it was fun, playful, _loving_… but with him… I think there was anger behind it. Does that make sense?"

"Yes."

"But, no. He never _really_ hit me, abused me, whatever."

"Can I ask another question that involves him? It's going to be personal, but if I can help you… I just want to help you…"

"Oral?"

"Yes. I mean, Bella if you never want to do it, that's fine. But it seems like you want to, and I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do, how I'm supposed to help you."

"Mmm. You see how kind you are? Well… with him it was a little rough, a little scary, um…" she is so careful to choose her words. "A little _forceful_? Do you know what I mean?"

_He fucked her mouth. I want to kill him… oh, that's right…_

"I do. We don't have to do it, Bella."

"Oh, I want to." She strokes my chest in slow circles. "To be honest, I think it's something else, too. When I'm with you, when we're making love, I never think about him. You and I do things together that he and I never did… and not just in bed, all sorts of stuff. Since that memory with him is still so strong, I'm afraid to go back there."

"Was it bad the other night?"_ When you swallowed my come and I nearly died of happiness. _

"No, the other night was _very_ good." Bella smiles and kisses my chest through my t-shirt.

"How about we take it off the table. Take it off the table and we don't have to spend energy worrying about if we should or shouldn't."

_If it's good enough for Seth, it's good enough for me._

"Mmm. I love you." She starts to purr. Carefully, I reach over and shut off the lights. "But no. I'm giving you oral," Bella mumbles in her sleep.

_Talking in your sleep, Ms. Swan? _

"Bella, do you mind if I piss on Mike's grave?"

"Please do."

_Done._

"Bella, am I in your nightmares?"

"Mmm. Good dreams, Medmerd."

"And bad dreams?"

She turns the corner from purring to snoring.

_I will never find this out._

I blow in her ear, and manage to stay awake through one cycle of bad dreams. When the birds begin to chirp, I set my alarm and fall off to sleep.

~o~

_This car drives like shit. I could make a car out of duct tape that would drive more smoothly than this piece of…_

"Thank you for driving, Edward."

_The Escort sounds like it has a severe case of COPD as it coughs and rattles while it idles here in front of the Capital City office building._

"You're welcome. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you? Let me park; I'll walk you up."

"No thank you. I'll see you in about an hour?"

"Yes, sure, good luck. I mean, not that you need luck…"

"I know what you mean. Don't be worried. I'm excited about this." Bella looks to the back window and sees cars approaching. "You have to go." She blows me a kiss, gets out of the car and makes her way into the building.

_God, watch over her._

I feel myself harden as she disappears and I drive away. _Last night was a close call and it didn't need to be._

A few blocks down the road, I find a parking spot in front of Jasper's office building.

The elevator music in the ride up only further agitates me. _A Calypso version of Tie a Yellow Ribbon?_

I walk through the large waiting area to the receptionist's desk.

"Is he alone? Does he have a client?" I ask, barely slowing my path to his office door.

"He's alone, Edward. I'll tell him you're— _Edward."_

_Too late._

I storm into his office and I'm met with Jasper's raised finger, halting me. He is sitting at his oversized, expensive therapist desk, writing on a pad of paper.

I cross my arms and lean back on his office door.

_How dare he make me wait?_

"Jas—"

"_Wait_," he snaps, as he continues to write.

He finishes writing a few words, drops his pen on his desk, and leans back in his chair. "I expected you would show up here," his voice is as cold as his ice blue stare.

"Damn right I'm here. You fucked up, Jasper. You fucked up big time."

He glares at me. His hands are steepled in front of him and his expensive therapist suit, but he says nothing, so I continue, "You should have told me. It was dangerous for you not to tell me. Aren't you supposed to keep people out of danger? Do you have any idea what could have happened? Do you have any idea what you did to me last night?"

_I feel my face getting hot. What do you have to say for yourself? _

His only response is to tap his fingers together in the rhythm matching the slight sway back and forth in his expensive therapist desk chair.

"Did you… did you… " I still have more to say, but those clear eyes are boring into me.

"Are you through?" he snarls.

_My mind scatters. No, I'm not through…_

"Sit down," he commands, coolly.

"I don't want to sit do—"

"_Sit down," _he threatens as he stands. I've never seen Jasper like this. Slowly, he walks around his desk and positions himself between the expensive therapist leather chairs, and me, leaving me only one option—the couch.

I sit, suddenly feeling guilty. _I shouldn't though, I'm right._

Jasper sits in one of the chairs, across from me, and leans in.

"Do _you_ have any idea what last night was like for _me_?" His voice is quiet, careful, angry. Jasper's Southern accent emerges when he's flirting, drunk, or mad. His accent is full-on, and it's not because he is flirting with me.

"I have Alice with me, who is in shambles, and still angry with you, by the way; I have you, _my best friend_, freaking out on me on the phone. You know I can't say a Goddamn word to either of you, and all I want to do is go help Bella. Keep your fucking guilt trip to yourself; I want none of it. You're not the only one who had a tough night last night."

I keep my eyes fixed on the floor. He's right. He's always right. No, wait…

"She was in danger," I whisper, not yet willing to concede.

"Look, Edward…" Jasper drags his face over his hand and sighs, "did she tell you how many pills she had?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, you know. By last week, they were little more than a placebo. Bella convinced herself she needed them, and therefore she did. But really…"

"I know," my voice is still quiet.

"Last night, Bella gave me permission to talk to you and Alice about this, so I can share a few things now."

"She did?"

"Yes, she knew you would come here today."

"Really?"

"Yes, Edward. Bella knows you very well." Jasper walks over to his desk and picks up his phone, "Marcia, can you bring us a couple glasses of orange juice."

"Can I get coffee?"

"No," he says sternly to me. "Thank you, Marcia." He walks back over to his chair. "More caffeine is the last thing you need, Edward… Now, where were we? Oh, yes… you are correct about one thing; I did make a mistake—a big one. I should have known Bella would never tell you or Alice. I should have followed up and checked in on her after our consult."

"How did you know?"

Jasper sits back in his chair and rubs his chin. "Bella is fiercely independent," he shrugs. "Yes, she has self-esteem problems to overcome, but you know better than I, a part of her is tough as nails. Edward, you met her at a real turning point, certainly the most difficult time of her life. She's eager to prove to everyone how strong she is. It's a tough position for her, she's grateful for the help, but she doesn't want to be coddled by anyone." Jasper shakes his head, "Once Bella realized her Valium use was little more than a placebo, she probably wanted to break free of them on her own. Well, I should have known better… I should have followed up."

I nod with nothing much to say. _Coddled?_

"Edward, I want you to try out my new sofa for me. Lie down."

I look at the long, cream-colored, leather couch… I want to, but I'm suspicious.

"Please. Do me a favor. That thing cost almost as much as a car… but take off your shoes first."

"You know what Jasper, I only have a few more minutes. I have to pick up Bella."

"I'll get you back in time for Bella. You look exhausted, I'm sure you didn't sleep much last night, just lie down and rest your eyes."

_I am tired, really tired. _

Reluctantly, I kick off my shoes. I stretch out on the couch and immediately begin to yawn. It's like tiny angels are supporting my body. "Wow, this is good."

"I thought you'd like it." Jasper's voice is soft.

_God, I pray to you—please don't let me mess up my relationship with one of the best people you ever brought to me. Jasper is my friend. I don't want to fight with my friend._

"Edward, you asked me if I had any idea what it was like for you last night. Why don't you tell me? Tell me what it was like riding back in the van."

I take a deep breath. _This couch is magic—I feel so good._ "It's like I… completely lose control. I want to protect her… save her."

"Physically? How does it feel physically?"

"Um… my chest gets tight, lots of energy coursing through… but I can't do anything with it, you know? Carlisle pulled me over to throw things."

"Mmm… baseball."

"Yeah, yeah. I need to throw or run… run fast, but I can't. Sometimes I just freeze up. Like I'm impotent, like I can't get to her and save her."

"Like you're under the bed?"

"_Holy shit."_ I bolt straight up to sitting on the couch. I grip my knees with my hands, suddenly out of breath.

"Take it easy, Edward." Jasper's voice pacifies me. He hands me a glass of orange juice, "Here, drink this."

"When… when did this get here?"

"While you were asleep."

"I fell asleep?"

"Just for a few minutes. You're tired, Edward."

"Did you hypnotize me?"

Jasper chuckles and scans my face with concerned eyes. I'm sure I look like I feel, a little out of sorts. "No. I don't hypnotize. And I'm here as your friend, not your doctor."

We sit quietly as I drink the orange juice out of cut crystal... expensive, therapist cut crystal, I'm sure. I take in the full office—different shades of beige and cream, light wood, simple lines. Esme would love this place; she's taught me so much about this stuff through the years. It's comforting here, exactly as it should be.

"Edward," I focus back on Jasper, "Bella has brought up a lot of your unresolved grief. I am quite sure Bella Swan is the best thing that has ever happened to you. Now it's time for you to start working on those unresolved issues again."

Jasper goes to his desk and takes the pad of paper he was writing on earlier. Walking back to me, he pulls off the top piece then hands it to me. Names and phone numbers.

"Therapy?" I ask, unenthusiastically.

Jasper's face stays impassive as he sits back in the chair.

"Jasper, I don't want… I don't want a shrink." I sound defeated. _I am defeated._

"A shrink? I'm glad you think so highly of my profession and your would-be profession."

"You know what I'm saying… I'm not… I'm not…"

"You're ready, Edward. I know it will be hard work, but it is time." His voice is calm and certain; my insides are neither.

I fold up the paper and put it in my pocket.

"Bella is a very special woman," he says with a warm smile. "I'm glad you found each other."

I nod and sit quietly for a long time, mentally running through arguments against my return to therapy. Though I do not know why, on some level the idea repulses me. _But what is the alternative?_

"Edward, what is it?"

I blurt out, "I love her, Jasper. I love her so much," my voice breaks and hot tears begin to fill my eyes. "What the fuck, Jasper? I never used to cry. I'm such a pussy," I say, shoving the heels of my hands to my eyes to stop tears from falling.

Jasper sits next to me on the couch and places his hand on my shoulder. "It's alright, Edward. It's time, that's all." He hands me his conveniently placed box of tissues.

After another moment of pulling myself together, he's walking me to the door so I can pick up Bella.

"Thank you, Jasper, and I'm sorry."

"It's alright, Edward," his hand on my back feels so reassuring.

"Oh, um, I told Bella you weren't but…"

"I'm sure Bella thinks I'm mad at her. Self-esteem," he says shaking his head. "I'll give her a call."

"Oh, Alice?"

"What about her?"

"Things are good, right?"

"Alice is a lovely woman."

I wait, but he doesn't say anything else.

"And?"

"And I'm a gentleman, so that is all you get." He opens the door for me. "Now, go pick up Bella. I'll call you tomorrow."

I turn and grab Jasper's shoulder, yanking him to my chest for a tight hug, whether he wants one or not.

.

While I wait outside for Bella, I make two phone calls: the first is to my mechanic, the second is to Ms. Verak:

"Hello, Tabetha Verak speaking."

"Hi , you probably don't remember me. My name is Edward Ma-"

"Well, Mr. Masen, how are you? We were just talking about you."

"You were?" I scratch my head. _Why would they talk about me?_

"Trust me; it was all good. What can I do for you today."

"I was wondering if you could help me out. I need to do some shopping."

"Oh, we'd love to help you out. Shall I assemble the whole team?"

"Um… would that be too much trouble?"

"Not at all, Edward… I mean, Mr. Masen."

"Please, call me Edward."

"All right, Edward. We look forward to seeing you."

I end the call and Bella comes bouncing out of the building to meet me.

"How was it?" I ask.

"It was _great_. Great, great, great." She stretches up to give me a peck, then grabs my hand as we walk towards the car.

"That's wonderful, Bella. So, he was okay? You don't have to stay with the first one you meet."

"Oh, no. He's good. I think this is going to be very good."

Though she must be tired, she is so full of energy, nearly glowing with happiness.

I open the car door for her and get in the other side.

"So, what is on your agenda today?. Do you want to go back to the apartment for a nap?"

"No. Actually, I'm going to avoid a nap today," she says, searching for something in her purse. "Here it is. He gave me a things to do list; I wrote it down because I'm still a little fuzzy: I have to go to Newtons…" she looks at me, "I have to come clean and tell my colleagues the truth about Mike and me. I'm done being treated like a widow." Bella looks back at the list, "Okay, then I have to spend time with Alice… boy, we have to talk. And, I'm going to head to The Y this afternoon and take a yoga class."

"Yoga?"

"Yes. I used to go all the time. We thought it might help me relax, fall asleep."

_Good idea, I should have come up with that._

"And then tonight… carb-up and avoid sleeping until ten or eleven. I need to get back on a regular sleep schedule."

"_Carb-up_?" I ask, trying not to make fun of the expression.

"Yes, I know… it's his term," she shakes her head, rolling her eyes. "He said the slow-burn will be good for sleeping."

_Slow-burn_? I bite my tongue, but I'm sure Bella sees me holding back laughter.

"Yes, I know… but it's worth a try."

"Yeah, yeah, of course it is." I rub my hand on the back of her neck. "You look, I don't know, good. I'm glad for you, Bella."

"Thank you, Edward. I really want to get the most out of this_._"

"Hey, listen… I have an idea. I know how we can avoid sleeping."

"Yes, I'm sure you do," she says, rolling her eyes.

"No, no, not sex. I was thinking about going to Spinasse. We can eat some good pasta and then go to an early movie."

"Spinasse? A movie?" she asks softly as her eyes widen.

"Yes, you know, like a date… if you want. You said you didn't need dates, but I thought…"

"Yes, yes, I would love to go on a date with you, Edward."

And for the fist time in a long time, I feel I've done something right. _Keep it up, Edward._

"Okay, good. It's a date. Shall I pick you up at five?"

Bella starts to blush and giggle, putting her list back in her purse.

"What's so funny?"

"You're picking me up for a date," she shrugs and begins laughing again. "I like the sound of that."

"Me too, Bella." I take her hand in mine and kiss it as she looks out the window and turns a deeper shade of pink.

I pull out of our parking spot and ask, "Where to first? Newtons?"

"Yes, please. You can drop me off and I'll go through my list. Everything is walking distance."

"Would you like me to wait and drive you?"

_Please let me drive you._

"That is a very kind offer, but I think I'd like to walk."

_Let it go, Edward._

"You got it."

I am rewarded with an amazing, perfectly straight, white-toothed smile.

"Edward Masen, have I told you today that I love you?"

"Yes. But it's always good to hear it again. I love you too, Isabella Swan."

While I pull up to Newtons, Bella goes through her purse again and retrieves a small, white box.

"I want to let you know I have these so you don't think I'm hiding anything," she says with a smirk.

"What's that?"

"It's Xanax, a sample—just two pills."

_Xanax? I don't know if I like this idea._

"Bella he isn't a psychiatrist, he can't prescribe…"

"He has a partner who is a psychiatrist," she says slowly, carefully. "I'm not planning on taking them; they are in case of an emergency."

"Emergency?"

"Wrong word," Bella says quickly, and smiles. "Just if I really can't sleep. Okay?"

_It is probably good she has something just in case. Right?_

"Yes, sure," I say, sounding unconcerned.

"If I use them, I'll get more when I go back on Wednesday." Bella's eyes turn wary. "I'm going to see him on Wednesday and Friday. We'll pull back on sessions after my sleep regulates, my nightmares get better."

_Three days a week? _This is good. _Right?_ I try to keep my face expressionless, but I think I fail.

"It's a lot, isn't it? It sounds like I'm crazy, doesn't it?" Her brows knit together and her tongue slides over her healing lip.

In one short car ride, Bella's therapy high is on the cusp of plummeting, as my approval hangs in the balance.

"No, Bella, you're not crazy. You are a woman having some trouble sleeping," I repeat back her words from last night.

"Thank you," she says softly, clearly needing my support.

I pull up to the store and Bella gets out.

She leans into the open car door and asks, "Will you text me today if you get a chance?"

"Of course. Keep me posted."

"Oh, and you be careful with my car here," Bella says tapping the roof of the Escort.

"I wouldn't do that, Bella. You probably dented it."

"Hey, watch it. This car is my baby."

_The car?_ "I thought I was your baby."

"_Aww_." Bella crawls back into the car. "Of course you're my baby." She places her hand on my jaw and kisses me with those soft, full lips. "I'll see you later, baby."

Bella slinks out of the car and I watch as she prepares herself for Newtons. She fixes her skirt, smooths her fingers over her hair, juts her chin out, and walks with a confident stride I've never seen.

_Go get 'em, Bella._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

A/N: See that? We're getting happy.

I know some of you would rather not have the details/background of Bella's Valium use. However, if you would like to know when she was or wasn't on Valium, I posted the guide that is on Twilighted in the Teaser/Outtake section titled "Bella's Secret."

I'm still playing with outtake ideas-but I definitely think we will go with something happy. Maybe a little Jasper and Alice.

Tabetha Varek is coming back next chapter with the full crew-if you haven't read the outtake "Good Enough" you can catch up on who those characters are there.

I'd love to know what you think.

Next update 7-10 days.

Warm regards,

Liz x_  
_


	24. Pitching

A/N:

**Hello wonderful readers!**

Quick bad news/good news: I whispered to some of you that this will be a double sized chapter, that would have taken me a few more days to polish. So, (good news) I decided to send out this update now, and you will get the second update in a couple of days. This chapter is titled 'pitching' the next one is titled 'woo.'

Thank you to those wonderful women who do so much for this story: **orangeapeal**, **Sunshine**, and **Robsjenn.**

I also want to thank **abstract way** for her wonderful friendship and terrific story, **Animate Me.**

This chapter goes out to **katiebird3** and all those folks who endured the WFE NY Premier. (orangeapeal kept me a live during the ordeal).

**Need a recap?:**

*announcer's voice* Recently on She Gives Me Religion:

On the way home from a youth retreat, where Carlisle gave Edward tips on pitching woo, Edward received a phone call from Alice revealing Bella was not returning calls.  
Edward freaked out during the van ride and, when finding Bella safe and sound in her apartment, freaked out on her—yelling, scaring her, then having desperate, rug burn creating sex.  
On the phone, Alice yelled at Bella, then yelled at Edward for yelling at Bella.  
Bella admitted to being on small doses of Valium to help her sleep, relax, and eat. She was using the weekend to get off her 'addiction.'  
Bella offered her journal to Edward, who read a few things that taught him a little more about the women he loves.  
They named Edward's angry/scared 16-year old alter ego, "Teddy." Bella told Edward she will not have sex with Teddy again.  
In the morning, Edward dropped Bella off for her first therapy appointment and stormed into Jasper's office ready to give him the riot act for keeping Bella's Valium secret from him.  
Jasper turned the tables, helped him see the necessity for Edward's return to therapy, and gave him orange juice.  
Edward called Tabetha Varek, the personal shopper, and called his mechanic.  
Bella came out of therapy with a homework list, two Xanax, and a three-day a week therapy schedule.  
Edward asked Bella to dinner and a movie. He wants to pitch woo. She giggled.  
Edward dropped Bella off at Newtons were she intends to tell her colleagues the truth about Mike.

Let's see what these kids are up to...

* * *

Chapter Twenty-four  
Pitching

.

.

.

"You want to buy underwear? We're Women's Lingerie, but I'd be _more than happy_ to help you pick out underwear. Come with me, I'll take you to Menswear." Rachel turns and gestures for me to follow, but I stop her.

"No, not men's underwear, women's underwear, you know… um… panties."

"_Panties?_" Alicia and Rachel sing in unison, patronizing me.

I run my fingers through my hair and notice the attention we're drawing on the floor of the lingerie department.

"Not just panties, you know… lingerie, too. Nightgowns, or ah, nighties… whatever they're called." I know what they're called, I just feel silly saying it.

"He's buying women's lingerie," Rachel says arrogantly to Alicia, then in a quieter tone, she says, "you owe me."

"Wait, did you two have some sort of a bet?"

Alicia rolls her eyes, but then smiles. Reluctantly, she tells me, "When you were here last time, we made a bet if you had a girlfriend or not."

"Oh, yeah, I do, but I had just met her the last time I was here."

"Pity," she says, then gives a flirtatious smile as she pulls a pendant on her necklace back and forth.

I politely smile back, and look away feeling the warmth creep up my face. I can't help wishing they were drunk like the last time I was here; it was easier that way.

"So, Edward…" I'm grateful Rachel jumps in. "What kind of panties are you looking for?"

"Hipster? Thong? Bikini? G-string?" Alicia asks.

"How about basic high cut, or boy shorts?" Rachel suggests.

_Boy shorts?_ "I don't know… I'm not sure what they are." My eyes dart back and forth between the two of them as they call out things I know nothing about.

"How about full briefs?" Alicia asks.

"Um, okay."

"Alicia, be nice." Rachel gives her a severe look.

"Are full briefs bad?" I'm sweating and my mouth is dry. _Should tell them I a seminary student?_

"Edward, I'm just teasing you." Alicia says.

"We have several matching sets, would you like to take a look at some?" Rachel asks more kindly; she knows I'm lost.

"Matching what? What matches? Matching underwear?"

"Bras. Bra and panty matching sets."

"Um, sure."

"Do you have her sizes?" Alicia asks.

"Sizes?" I am fully unprepared for this shopping trip. "I don't know… small? Medium?"

The women exchange looks.

"How about her bra?" Rachel asks.

"I don't know… small? Medium?"

"Do you know her cup size?"

_Cups? I know what cups are… those are the letters. I stare at the women, bewildered._

"Edward, is she closer to my size or Alicia size?"

They both jut out their chests and I glance back and forth at their… bosoms, quite sure I shouldn't be, and wondering if this is a hidden camera prank. _I think I should go._

"Um, you're two different sizes?" I scratch my head.

Their laughter tells me that they are different and I should have noticed.

"I told you two not to start without me," a man's voice booms from behind my shoulder.

_Oh, thank God, it's Uncle Jay._

I open my arms and give Uncle Jay, my savior and favorite walking stereotype, a big hug, which he reciprocates.

"So, what have I missed?" he asks.

"Edward has a girlfriend," Alicia quickly responds.

"Aww. That's nice." Jay's voice is quiet and he talks to me like I'm the only one in the room. "I bet she's a doll, isn't she Edward?"

"Yes, she is, Jay… but I don't know the size of her cups." Mindlessly, I bring up my hands and try to show how they fit when I cup the soft weight of them.

Jay puts one hand on my back and uses his other to lightly push down my raised hands.

"Edward, I think they might be giving you a bit of a hard time," he says quietly. I catch him shaking his head and them. He puts his arm around me, and continues, "They're a wee bit jealous, and they like playing with you."

_Oh._

"Edward, you don't know her bra size," he states, rather than asks.

"No, I don't."

"Of course you don't. You like them, but you don't think about clothing them."

"No, I don't. But I like them in clothes…and out of clothes," I quietly confess.

"Does she shop here often? We might have her size on file," Rachel says, sympathetically.

"No, I don't think she shops here. She doesn't… she doesn't have a lot of money and she's very careful with the money she does have."

Alicia and Rachel's expressions soften.

"You would like her… I know you would. I don't know her size, but she's small, slender," I stammer.

"Does she live at the gym?" Alicia says, and Rachel follows with an elbow to her ribs.

"No, she… she's not…" I'm getting flustered. For some reason, it's important for me to have them understand who Bella is, for them to like her. "Her name is Bella. She's down to Earth… and sweet." They're not impressed. "She's nice to everyone, even complete assholes, but I don't think it's easy for her, she works at it—and it takes a lot more strength to be nice…"

Now that I've started talking, I can't seem to stop. Digging my hands in my hair, I look at the floor and continue.

"She takes care of me even when I don't deserve it. And she's smart, she understands people really well, and she has a wicked sense of humor—but never at someone else's expense… she takes care of everyone, but she never asks for anything in return. She's selfless. And she gives me presents and I want to give her presents. Nothing slutty, just pretty and comfortable… um, she likes cotton. Something classy, like the two of you would wear," I gesture to Alicia and Rachel without looking up.

"Look, I don't know her size… but she's small, um, slender, but it's not because she lives at the gym, it's because she was very sad for a long time. I don't think her clothes fit anymore. She just wants to be happy, and I want her to be happy because I love her and she loves me."

There is silence. What started as an argument ends in my soliloquy. _I've said too much. _After a few long seconds, I raise my head, looking up to see five pairs of eyes staring at me. At some point, the personal shopper, Tabetha and Iris, the seamstress, joined the others.

Iris steps forward and offers her hand. Though her skin looks papery, it feels soft as silk in my hand. As we walk to the special dressing room for the filthy rich at the back of store, Iris tucks my arm under hers and I wonder if she would let me take her to lunch someday.

Less than a half hour later, Iris and I are sitting on the couch as Alicia and Rachel finish their profuse apologies and show me one pair of panties after another.

"You see, these are boy shorts, and we have a lot of these in cotton." Rachel pulls out a glossy catalogue picture of a model wearing the same pair. _Oh, I've definitely seen these before, I just didn't know their name. _

While Tabetha hunts down some things for me, Jay sits at her desk and observes. Anytime I'm unsure of a pair, I look to Jay and Iris for approval. For some inexplicable reason, I trust the panty insight of a gay man and an octogenarian woman better than my own.

"This pair looks uncomfortable," Alicia says sheepishly as she shows me a pair of black lace panties, "but they feel great on. They don't ride up. This is my favorite designer, Vannina Vesperini, and she's expensive, so if Bella doesn't splurge on herself, she might not have any of these."

"You wear these?" I ask before realizing the inappropriateness of the question.

"When I can… with my employee discount, I can treat myself to a of couple pairs a year."

"Bella works in retail, too."

"She does?" Rachel asks from behind Alicia. The two women look at each other and it is as if I just told them that Bella belongs to the same sorority. They serve people with money, but have little themselves.

I select an array of panties, including the pair Alicia suggested. After thorough discussion, we decide to only include one thong. I haven't seen her wear a pair yet, and as Rachel explains, women can be classified into two groups—those who like thongs and those who don't. I get the impression Bella and Rachel are in the 'don't' camp.

Surprisingly, selecting a nightgown is much easier—as soon as I see it, I know it should belong to Bella.

Rachel and Alicia gather my selections to have them gift wrapped, but Rachel stops at the door. "Edward, are you going to be trying on any pants?"

"I don't know." I look at Jay. "I like everything I bought last time, but I have a special date tonight, so maybe something new?"

Jay stands from his desk and walks around searching my face and cocking his head.

"What kind of look are you going for, rugged, outdoorsman? You have quite a bit of facial hair there."

"No, I think I'll shave for tonight."

"Rich business man on the town?"

"Mmm." _No, that's not right._ Bella said we should be sweet to each other. "What would you do to me to make me look sweet?"

"I'd slather you in butter and roll you in sugar." Alicia lets out a howl, but Jay looks nonplussed.

"What would you call what you're wearing?" I ask him.

"Impeccably dressed gay man working in designer shoes."

"That probably wouldn't be a good idea."

Jay is wearing gray and dark purple, I like his outfit, but I don't want to look…

Jay guides me to the mirror and stands beside me. "Like we discussed last time, with your green eyes, you should really capitalize on the plums and eggplants this season." _He sounds like Esme with her fruit and vegetable colors. _

"I think I can deflame this outfit for you," he says confidently as we look in the mirror.

"Edward, would you mind if I come back to see the final outfit?" Rachel asks shyly.

"Me too?" Alicia asks.

If I say no, I think I'd be betraying some family tradition. "Um, sure." _Come back, but please don't make fun of me._

Later that afternoon, I'm standing on the tiny stage.

"Much better without the facial hair," Jay says as he inspects me. "I like the hair. The trim on the sides makes the top look longer." _Easier for pulling._

I like the suit, not shiny at all. It's a gray Gucci suit and I'm wearing it with a white shirt and purple or 'plum' tie.

"Now don't forget, pick her up with the jacket off. If she's dressed to the nines, wear the jacket, it not, go without. She'll feel bad if she thinks she's under-dressed," Jay instructs me.

"The presents are all ready." Tabetha Varek has two boxes wrapped in heavy silver paper with ribbon that matches the color of my tie. "Are you sure about the card, Edward? We have gift cards that can range in any denomination you want."

"Thank you, Ms. Varek, but I'd rather give her the credit card. But we're putting it in a gift card envelope, right?"

"Right," she smiles sweetly.

I look over to Rachel and Alicia on the couch. Rachel is sitting forward resting her chin on her fist, and Alicia is nearly reclining with her hands clasped behind her head. Neither has said a word in ages.

I raise my arms, "Well?" and wait for their teasing.

"You're going to knock Bella's socks off, Edward. You look great." Rachel says.

"Absolutely… and I agree with Jay. She'll want to match your level of dress. If you can, call one of her girlfriends to see what she's wearing, that would help."

_Not the response I was expecting. I wish I could call Alice, but I haven't made amends yet._

"Thanks, Alicia, Rachel. I'm going to bring flowers," I say, searching for and receiving additional praise.

I'm surprised by their turnaround from earlier today. Last time I was here, I thought that this is what it might be like to have sisters. But maybe this visit is a better example of a sibling relationship, teasing and embarrassment in one moment, and encouragement the next.

As I gather my things, Alicia approaches me. "When Bella comes in, tell her to ask for us. We'll help her with anything. She sounds like a gem."

I can handle their teasing, but I don't want them to tease my Bella.

"Thanks, Alicia."

I begin to walk out and Alicia grabs my arms again. She looks around to see that most people are occupied, then speaks quietly. "It is absolutely none of my business and I should probably shut up right now, but… when you said you were dating someone I figured she would be… well… never mind, none of my business."

_The Tanya type. _

"I think I understand."

"I swear, we'll treat her like gold." Her eyes are begging and remorseful. I believe her.

"Thank you," I give Alicia a hug, say my goodbyes, and head for the door where Iris is waiting for me.

I offer my arm, and we walk silently at Iris's slow pace through the store to the main entrance.

When we reach the door, I turn to Iris and she reaches her hand to my face. I bend down and feel her cold palm on my cheek.

"Did you make a mistake Edward?" her voice is thin, but her lilting Jewish accent is thick.

"Yes, I did, Iris."

"And you're trying to make up for it?"

"I guess so. I want to be a good boyfriend."

She nods, then stares directly in my eyes and raises a finger, "Best way to make up for a mistake is not to make the mistake again."

"I won't."

She gestures for me to come closer and I lean down far enough for Iris to press a kiss on my cheek, just like the last time.

"Thank you… Iris, can I come visit you sometime? I like talking with you."

Her blue eyes fill with water. She pats my cheek and says, "You're a good boy, Edward."

~o~

Holding both bouquets of flowers in one hand, and my jacket over my arm, I knock on Alice and Bella's apartment door. I can see the lower peephole darken for a moment, so I give Alice a small wave.

"Come on in, Edward," Alice says as she opens the door. Her voice reveals residual hard feelings. Turning her chair away from me, Alice wheels herself into the kitchen and I follow behind her.

"Bella is still getting ready."

"These are for you, both of you." I show her the flowers and, for only a second, I see Alice's mask slip.

"Thank you," she says with little expression, getting out two vases. It's only been a few days since I've seen her, but Alice is maneuvering around the kitchen with much more ease than before.

We don't speak, but together we work to fill the vases with water, pull off the leaves on each stem, and arrange the flowers.

"I'm schedule to take you to PT on Wednesday. It must be going well, it looks like you're doing great."

My comment doesn't break the flow of her work. "You don't have to take me, if you don't want, I can get another ride."

_Aughhh. What are we doing here?_

"Please, Alice."

"Please what?"

"Please yell at me. I'd rather you yell than give me the cold shoulder." _I've lost my friend. _

Laying down a Calla Lilly, Alice sighs, then turns her chair to me.

"I know I was too hard on you last night…"

"No..."

"Let me finish. I was too hard on you, but I'm still angry with myself for not intervening in Bella's relationship with the little prick sooner. I took it out on you." Alice looks up at me with doleful eyes.

"Alice, you were right to yell at me. I was being a complete bastard. I didn't see it at the time, but I deserved everything you said and more."

Alice looks at me for a few seconds, then nods once.

"I'm going to make it up to her, and I won't do it again."

"This date is a good start." She wheels herself away from me to inspect my outfit.

"Should I wear the jacket?"

"Yes, absolutely. I forced her to buy a new dress last week. She didn't think she'd have a chance to wear it, but I told her you'd come through."

"Thanks."

While I put on the jacket, Alice says, "Bella doesn't want me to be so overprotective." She sighs, "That's going to be hard for me."

"I think I'm supposed to pull back, too."

Alice gestures for me to bend over, and she fixes the dimple in my tie.

"Alice, I'm really going to try to be better." I stand back up. "I, um, I'm going to go to therapy," I stumble through my confession.

Alice rolls her eyes. "Honestly, the two of you are some pair. Why do you make such a big deal out of therapy? I see my therapist every week, just like my manicurist."

"You go to therapy?"

"I'm a Brandon. Brandons do therapy very well. You think I'm neurotic now, you should see me when I'm not seeing my therapist… well, you did."

"The hospital?"

"Yes. The Brandon three, floundering around without one of our therapists in sight, quite a show." She laughs once, then sighs. "Honestly, I didn't need a therapist in the hospital, I needed a friend. Thank you for being there."

"You're welcome."

"Now, if you told me I'd be dating a therapist someday, I'd never believe you."

"You really like Jasper."

"Yes, Edward, I really like Jasper." And I can tell I'll get nothing more out of her. _Do they have some sort of a pact?_ "Edward, you know Bella is hiding in there until you and I apologize appropriately."

I get down on my knees.

"I know, and I'm glad. Alice Brandon, you are my friend, and I love you. I'm sorry I hurt you and your best friend. Please forgive me."

"Come here, handsome." I give Alice a hug and notice we're both getting better at hugging while she's sitting in Ruth. As she holds me in our embrace she whispers, "I love you too, Edward…" then adds, " I don't think you'd ever hurt her, but you know if you do, I'll come after you with something sharp." Though I'm sure she would, there is lightness in her voice as she threatens me. I think she trusts me.

"I'll hand you the weapon," I say before pulling away and kissing her forehead.

We hear Bella emerge from the bedroom. I stand and straighten my jacket.

"Wow, you look beautiful, Bella… Isabella." _She likes it when you call her Isabella… don't fuck this up. _

Bella is wearing a dress in a shiny material that is the same color as my tie. There are little roses made out of the same fabric decorating her neckline. I can see a little cleavage. _Where did that come from?_ The outfit has a short matching jacket that shows off her small waist. She's wearing heels, really high heels.

_I want to touch her. _

"Your hair… how did it get so long?" Bella's silky hair covers her breasts, nearly reaching her elbows.

"I straightened it. Alice helped."

I look at Alice and she smiles proudly at me. _I think I'm saying the right things._

"You like it straight?" Bella asks.

"Straight… wavy… I like it all."

I take Bella's hand, raise it to my lips and kiss it. I aim for gallant, but I think I might look goofy. Her eyes are clear, depthless, and Bella's eyelashes are long and dark; her lips are pinkish-purple and glossy. _Make-up._

"Hey, we match," I say, noticing the color combination again.

"It looks like we're going to prom," Bella says, fidgeting with her jacket. I think she might be as nervous as I am.

In this moment, I'm glad I didn't go to my prom, because now I get to go with Bella.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

More to come, soon.**  
**

Yes, the WFE NY Premier inspired Saintward's outfit. He was sooooo pretty that day. I mean Rob was pretty-of course. I can distinguish the two (sort of).

Want a topic to discuss? Rachel and Alicia, really, can you blame them? How will Bells react to gifts?

Love to know what you think-

Liz x


	25. Woo

A/N

Hello and thank you for those lovely reviews!

Though we've been seeing Edward's challenges in the last few chapters, he is indeed still the same sweetly devoted man.

We have a few additional names for Saintward that I love: **Pinkcookies's** name for him is 'Godsquadward.' She pointed out that his wings are also colored plum for the date.

And **FireandIceBoth's** name for him, Heartward. Yes, even when he loses his wings from time to time, his heart is still there.

Wondering who the heck Iris and the others are? You can find them under the outtake titled, "Good Enough" in the outtake and teaser section on my profile.

Just a reminder, if you don't have PMs enabled, I can no longer reply to your reviews. You know who you are *narrows eyes.*

Thank you to those wonderful women who do so much for this story: **orangeapeal**, **Sunshine**, and **robsjenn. **These women continually go above and beyond the call of duty. I'm proud to call them my friends.

A special thank you to **Songster**- for sharing your gift.

Enough talk? Okay, okay, let's get back to their date…

* * *

Chapter Twenty-five  
Woo

.

.

.

"Open."

I part my lips and Bella feeds me a marinated apple wrapped in Parma prosciutto. Salty, sweet, the food is delicious. I've always wanted to come to Spinasse, but never had an occasion. Bella is an occasion – my occasion.

The servers bring a pasta course, and Bella tries to 'carb up,' as her therapist suggested, on Jerusalem artichoke ravioli.

"I like to watch you eat," Bella says as I finish the last of the prosciutto. "Especially pork. It's on my 'Rules to Loving Edward list.'

"What is?"

"Feed Edward pork," she says, taking a ravioli and raising an eyebrow.

"No, it's not."

Shrugging, she wears a sly smile as she chews and swallows. "It is, I swear. You don't have to believe me."

"What else is on the list?"

"I can't tell you that. Loving someone is like a magic show; I can't reveal all of my secrets," she says wryly, and waves her hands and widens her eyes like she is a magician.

_But Bella makes loving me look so simple. _

We share plates of rabbit meatballs wrapped in caul fat, and roasted young chicken with shaved Brussels spouts… everything is amazing. We laugh and talk through the various courses and I finally get to ask some burning questions.

"I make you drink blood?" I'm horrified.

"Yep."

"Get out."

"You do… you wanted to know, so I'm telling you. In my _bad_ dreams, you make me drink blood. But I'd rather tell you about the good dreams."

I have to think about this for a minute. It isn't so much that I'm interpreting the dream; I'm more fascinated by Bella's nonchalance. She doesn't look upset or frightened at all.

"How do I do it… am I a vampire or something? Is there a dead person?" _Do I hurt you? _

"Oh, no. It's usually from a chalice." Bella drinks some wine and shows me the glass. "You've noticed my preference for white… Gosh, I like this wine."

I had panicked when I looked at the wine list. I hadn't had time to research the wines of the Piedmont region, so I went with the most expensive white, a Bruno Giacosa Arneis, and fortunately, it was a success.

"Why do you think I make you drink blood?"

"Well, I've spent a lot of time trying to interpret my dreams… and I think there are two reasons. First, I'm feeling pretty crappy as a Catholic right now. I haven't received communion since before the funeral. I've decided to go to mass on Wednesday night."

"I have hours with Carlisle on Wednesday, but I can go with you on Sunday."

"Truthfully, I think I'd like to go to your church on Sunday. I can go to my church on Wednesday. I'm feeling the need for both right now." Bella looks at me the way she did when she told me had three therapy sessions a week: insecure.

"You aren't going to get an argument from me against going to church," I say raising my palms and, like before, her shoulders relax from my approval. _Preacher's wife._

"The second reason for the dream might have something to do with my eating." Bella places her hand over mine and tenderly rubs her thumb over my knuckles. "You see, I'm dating this terrific man who worries about how much I eat. He tries to feed me all the time."

Bella looks at the forkful of chicken in my hand that was headed for her mouth. Shaking her head, she smiles knowingly, and then opens her mouth allowing me to feed her, which I do.

I put down the fork and groan. "He sounds like a pain in the ass."

"Oh, no. He's a rare treasure."

"I swear, Bella, I don't even realize I'm doing it anymore."

As an automatic response, I glance again at the amount of food she has eaten. Bella misses nothing. I drop my head to my hands and Bella laughs.

"I know, love… There is _a lot_ of food here," she says, "it's all incredible, and I'm getting full." I nod, trying to appear careless. _I did order a ton of food._ "But…" she lowers her voice, "I'm a sucker for popcorn at movies… so I might be saving a little room."

_Popcorn over gourmet food?_ For the third or fourth time today, I fight the urge to propose to her on the spot.

"Edward, can I tell you now about the good dreams?"

"Are they erotic?" I raise my brow, unable to control my hope.

"Sometimes," she says slowly, "but there is one reoccurring dream that is my favorite. Do you want to hear about it," she asks timidly.

"Please."

"I'm walking down a road in a nice neighborhood, some suburb." Bella is wistful as she speaks, and I hang on every word. "There's water, but I'm not sure where it is. In the distance I see a huge house being built—just a wood frame. As I get closer, all of the other workers disappear and it's only you left hammering nails into the wood… You're wearing khaki shorts and work boots, no shirt." She looks at me and smiles, bashfully. "It's a sunny day. Your back has a deep golden tan and you're _very_ sweaty."

"What are you doing in the dream?"

"I sit on the curb across the street and watch you hammer nails," she says with finality and drinks another sip of wine.

_That's it? Do we have sex then...?_ _And this is your favorite dream I'm in? I suck._

"Bella, does anything else happen? It's just me hammering nails?"

"There are variations… sometimes you turn to me and smile, one time I brought you water, and last time… you handed me a hammer and nail."

_Oh, wow. Realization hits me like the hand of God slapping me upside the head. We're building our home... I want to hear her say it._

"What do you think it means?" I ask. _Please say it._

Bella presses her lips between her teeth and shrugs.

_I don't want to scare her. It's too soon to talk future, isn't it? _We're quiet for a long time, maybe too long.

"Tell me more about the retreat." Bella breaks the silence and I tell her about my inadequacies as a sex counselor.

Isabella Swan is the best audience I've ever had; she laughs at every ridiculous story I tell, so easily amused.

At the end of the meal, I pour Bella the last of the wine and I ask for the second time tonight about her talk at Newtons.

Bella slides closer to me in the banquette and shakes her head as she fingers the hair at my temple. I take a lock of her shiny hair between two fingers and run the length to the end. She smells so good—clean and pure.

"Edward Masen, The Beautiful and Kind, we are on a very romantic date in this very romantic restaurant." Bella's voice is quiet, soft. "The most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on has his hand on my knee," _I do, _"and for some reason, he wants to talk about bad dreams and difficult conversations." Bella brushes her finger over my lips. "I told you it went fine, love. I can tell you all about it now or later, your choice, but I'd rather have the rest of the world fall away for tonight. Let tonight be about us—just us."

I ease my hand an inch above her knee and make circles on the smooth skin of her thigh. Bella's eyes turn dark chocolate.

I swallow hard and dare myself to dream. "I want to hear about the house."

"The house?" Bella asks, her apprehension evident. _Dare to dream with me, Bella._

"We're building our house – our lives together – in that dream." My heart rate picks up and I can see Bella's chest heave with deep breaths. "That's what the dream means, doesn't it, Bella?"

"Yes," she whispers so quietly I can barely hear her.

"Let's talk about our house, our dream house."

As we walk to the movie theatre, Bella and I discuss our dream house. It doesn't surprise me that her desires are modest—a small cottage with a great kitchen, lots of windows and a small patch of land to plant vegetables and flowers.

I can see her now, wearing garden gloves and a hat to protect that delicate, pale skin. From the kitchen window, I watch her wave at me and hold up a successfully grown red tomato. I start the grill and we have dinner on our patio overlooking the water.

"Would you like to live on the water someday?" she asks as we walk hand-in-hand down the street.

"Yes. The suburbs, kitchen, windows, yard, water," I say like I'm reading off a list, because, really, it's already burned into my mind. "How about a guest suite for Charlie and Sue? Forks is a long drive."

"I'd like that very much," Bella says sliding her hand around my waist as we walk.

Tonight marks the first time that Bella and I find the courage to talk seriously about the future. Not in the way we did the first night we met, tangled in a web of lust and grief, but as adults, lovers, partners.

.

.

.

"I'm sorry sir, but _Love's Epiphany_ is sold out," the young ticket clerk tells me.

"Darn it, Edward. I knew you wanted to see that."

"_I _wanted to see that? I thought you wanted to see that."

"I don't want to see _Love's Epiphany_… I thought you did."

"No, no, no… not at all. What did you want to see?"

"Truthfully?"

I say a silent, hopeless prayer for her response.

Bella scrunches her nose, "_Face Punch_?_"_

_She couldn't be serious, could she?_

"Bella, _Face Punch_ is supposed to be the worst film of the year."

"I know," she says, raising her brows.

"It only got half of a star in the paper."

"I know."

"It's horribly violent."

"I know!" she sounds ecstatic.

"Bella, I've been dying to see _Face Punch_."

"Really?" she squeals.

"Really."

"Yay!" she raises her arms in victory.

_Marry me. _

During the trailers, Bella and I eat popcorn and she shares her philosophy that bad movies are much more entertaining than mediocre movies. I concur. With the exception of two teen boys sitting down in front, we are the only ones in the theatre.

We sit in the back corner. Bella crosses her legs and leans into me, burying her face into my neck to muffle her laughter. The worse the film's dialogue, the greater the hilarity.

I take the opportunity to hold her tightly and stroke her long, straight hair.

During a particularly violent scene involving a car crash, I gently hold Bella's head to me so she won't watch.

Lifting her lips to my ear, she whispers, "It's okay. This movie is too bad to scare me."

_But others might…? I take note. _

We aren't far into the movie when I catch her contagious laughter and I suggest we leave.

"Promise we'll rent it when it comes out on DVD?" Her lips brush my ear as she speaks.

"I'll buy you your own copy." Her mouth drops open in surprise like I've offered her the Hope Diamond. I lift her chin and give her a kiss. "I want to get you home."

Bella bites her lip and I get a glimpse of her creamy legs in the flickering light of the movie theatre. _Should we stay?_ _Makeout_ _and grope in the dark like teenagers? No, be good, Edward. _

Knowing Rose is staying with Alice tonight, Bella and I end our evening at the condo.

When we walk in, Bella eyes the presents on the dining room table.

"For me?" She seems almost afraid to ask.

I stand behind her with my hands around her waist as we look down at the gifts.

"No. They're for Charlie. Would you bring them to him for me?"

She gives me a playful smirk.

"Yes, they are for you, love."

"You already brought me those beautiful flowers, and…" she stops herself, then says, "you didn't have to do this." I can tell she's excited by the way she keeps running her fingers over the paper.

"Do you want to open them?"

She nods vigorously, unable to hold in her enthusiasm.

"Which one should I open first?"

Stepping away from her, I pick up the two gift boxes and first offer the smaller one. "This one."

When she reaches for it, I quickly pull it back. "No, this one."

Again she reaches, and I switch. "Maybe this one." She giggles so easily.

I continue like this until she breaks, rapidly clicking her heels on the floor. "Edward."

"Okay, this one," I yank it back one more time and hand her the larger box.

I hold my breath as she opens it because the first gift is the trickiest. She pulls away the tissue paper and lifts up a pair of cotton pajamas—short pants and a camisole, like the ones she often wears.

"This isn't really a gift," I say anxiously. "This replaces…"

"I know, Edward. I love them; they are even better." Bella saves me from talking about the pajamas I ripped off of her last night.

Bella puts them down and goes for the second, smaller box.

"No, wait, there's more in there."

"There is? I thought this was a big box."

Taking another layer of tissue paper away, Bella finds the panties.

"What's this?" She asks, then claps her hands. _Okay, still good._

"Um… I don't know. I got a little lost in the panties section and couldn't decide. It's not that I don't like the ones you wear… I'm not saying that…" _Fuck, I'm so nervous._ _Maybe this is why I haven't given her any gifts. Please don't be insulted._

My voice trails off as Bella lifts pair after pair out of the box. Her excitement crescendos. "I looove them!"

"You do?" _Thank you, Lord Jesus, for helping me buy my girlfriend underwear. Sorry. _

My excitement quickly matches hers. "You see… these are called boy shorts." I hold up the purple pair. "Purple is in this season." _Look, I'm learning._

"Yes, I like boy shorts."

"You do?" _Oh, good._

"Is purple cool with you?"

"Yes, baby."

"And look at this pair, it has a little skirt attached." They are red and satiny.

"Very sexy, Edward."

We look at each pair; Bella doesn't disregard or ignore a thing.

She gasps, "Vannina Vesperini?

"Do you know her?"

"Not personally, but I hoped we might meet one day… Thank you, Edward. I love them."

"One more layer."

"You're kidding," she shakes her head, but continues to smile. "What is this, Christmas? I'm going to start calling you Santa."

Wordlessly, Bella pulls out the simple, long, dark blue nightgown that called to me. Her mouth parts as she holds it by the thin straps in her outstretched arms.

She says nothing.

"I know you like blue… since the nightie you bought was light blue, I thought you'd like one that's dark blue." _Maybe she doesn't like it._ "The material is silky."

"It's silk," she murmurs.

I start to panic and pull at my hair.

"It's so sophisticated," she whispers, still looking at the gown.

"I know. That's why I bought it." Dropping her arms, Bella finally meets my eyes. "In that journal letter to Esme and Carlisle, you said you weren't sophisticated, but you are. You're the most sophisticated woman I've ever met. You're smart and kind. You treat people with class and respect, with grace. If that isn't sophistication, I don't know what is."

Bella lays the nightgown in the box, and quickly turns her head away, covering her mouth.

"Bella," I try to gently turn her shoulders around, but she resists.

"I'm okay, I'm fine, I'm really happy, thank you," her words quickly flow.

_You're crying?_

"Sit down, Bella." I pull out a dining room chair and guide her to sit.

As I get on my knees, Bella looks up at the ceiling and wipes away tears.

I take out a handkerchief, and dab the tears mixed with makeup under each of her eyes. "It takes so much to make you cry, Bella. Why are you crying?"

"I'm crying because I'm happy. I love my gifts. I'm very lucky."

I tilt my head and search her face, her lip quivers as she tries to suppress her crying. "No, there's something else here."

Bella nods, and the tears fall more quickly. "What is it, Bella?"

"I think… I'm still working on believing I deserve you," she admits in a shaky voice. "I'm almost there, but not quite." She forces a little laugh.

There is a direct line connecting Bella to me; when her heart hurts, my heart hurts.

I stand and offer my hand, she gives me hers and I lead her to one of two large chairs in the living room. I sit down and, without need for provocation, Bella sits on my lap and rests her head in the crook of my neck.

"How about we sit here for a little while," I say, and thank God for my soft voice.

"Thank you."

With one hand, I hold Bella's legs, and I stroke her hair with the other. There is no crying, just holding.

As we sit, I consider the irony of the situation. I bought her presents because: 1) I haven't yet found a sufficient way to express how much I love her; 2) I want Bella to be happy and have everything she's ever wanted; and 3) I want to prove I deserve her. But if I try to tell her how I am the undeserving one, it might spur more tears. So, instead of words and tears, we sit and I hold her.

St. Francis's prayer, really Bella's prayer, comes to mind:

_Lord, make me an instrument of your peace… where there is doubt, sow faith. _

_So much, so soon_, _Bella. I know._

Eventually, Bella lifts her head and looks as though she's transformed back into the happy woman she was earlier tonight. Her large brown eyes look clear again, and hopeful.

"Feeling better?"

"Much. I didn't ruin our date, did I?"

"Nope. I was just thinking that all of our dates should have a stop and hold intermission."

Bella kisses me with her soft, full lips.

I kiss her neck and whisper in her ear, "Take a bath with me."

Bella slowly shakes her head. "Not until I finish opening my presents, Santa."

Bella pulls the ribbon off of the second gift box. When she opens it, she whispers, "Oh, my God. Is this what I think it is?"

"Um, you should have one with a lock on it to keep me out, but the leather ones don't have locks."

Bella opens the leather bound journal and looks at the blank pages.

"It's, um… I like to write on lined paper, and I thought you might, too. You can refill this one with paper when it runs out with more lined or unlined."

"It's so soft."

"It's apparently a special kind of leather, old or vintage or something." _She really likes it, I can tell._

Bella closes her eyes and hugs the journal to her chest.

When she opens her eyes, there is a happiness there that obliterates her earlier sorrow. "Sit," she commands, and I oblige, taking her dining room chair.

Bella raises the skirt of her dress so she can sit astride me. Though I hold her lower thighs, I stop myself from going any higher.

"My Edward, these are the most wonderful gifts I have ever received."

"You like your journal?"

Bella smiles and shakes her head. "I _love_ my journal. I couldn't imagine anything more precious." She brushes my bangs away. "Oh… there's my favorite smile."

I reach into my jacket pocket, pull out the small envelope and hand it to her. "This is a little something else."

Her brows raise, then she narrows her eyes suspiciously. "What did you do?"

Bella opens the envelope.

"It's a little gift card," I say.

She looks confused.

"A lot of those panties have matching bras, but I didn't know your size, so you can buy some as part of the gift."

"Edward, this isn't a gift card, this is a store credit card." She raises a brow.

I shrug. "I know. Really, Bella, buy anything you want. Please treat yourself."

She shakes her head and holds my face in her hands. "Edward, you are crazy. I love you." She kisses me on my eyes, my nose, and, finally, my lips.

"Okay, your turn," she says sliding off of my lap.

"What do you mean?"

Bella goes to her purse and groans as she shakes her head. "I sort of… got you… oh, this is embarrassing."

"What?"

"I can't even call this a present," she says handing me an expensive looking envelope.

"Lap, please," I say, inspecting it, and Bella comes over to sit on my lap. The envelope is sealed, with "Wax?"

She shrugs and tilts her head back and forth. "Yes, wax. I tried to make it special."

I break the seal and pull out two pages of heavy stationery that appear aged, and folded in thirds. Expecting to see The Declaration of Independence, I unfold the paper, glance at it, and close it back up again.

"Bella…"

"It's nothing. But I did transcribe them directly from the journal, no editing. You read the Carlisle and Esme letter. I wrote to you that night, too. I was pretty tired at the time, but I thought you should see what I wrote. The other is… well, you'll see."

I sigh and look up at her. _She shouldn't have._

"What? Stop… don't tell me this is a great gift," she grumbles.

"Bella, the one thing I want more than anything else in this entire world, money can't buy."

Bella looks at me with doe eyes.

"I want you, Bella. This right here is a part of you."

"You have me, Edward. You had me the moment you pretended to be a priest so you could undress me." Bella leans her head to mine, and gives me a chaste kiss.

"I can't watch you read. I'll see you in the tub." Bella slides off my lap, gathers her gifts, and walks upstairs. I'm pretty sure she sways her hips a little more than usual because I'm watching.

_She didn't edit._ I prepare myself to read about my food rage and any other mistakes I made that night.

October 10

Dear Edward Masen, The Beautiful and Kind,

Tonight you took me dancing. Thank you.

I now know what it means to have someone lead. The way you held me in your strong arms, how you danced me around my apartment, made me a better dancer.

You make me feel so sexy. I can still see you sitting on the couch asking me to dance for you. You undressed me with those beautiful green eyes and made me feel wanted, desired. That's new for me. That story about your school dances made me giggle. You make me laugh a lot. That's new for me, too. It's been a long time.

I get lost in your eyes sometimes, especially when you have that look. Was I blushing? I'm blushing now as I think about it.

Your patience with my body, and me as a person, astounds me—but I don't want to write about that right now.

I'm going to fall back asleep with the thought of you holding my body against yours as we talked and laughed and danced.

I love you,  
I love you,  
I love you,

me

_I read the second page:_

Rules for Loving Edward (A Compilation):

1-Feed Edward pork products—especially bacon. He loves it so much, he smiles while he chews.  
2-Compliment him to bring out his shy, crooked smile. My favorite.  
3-Play with his hair—it helps him fall asleep.  
4-Let him carry you to bed—it makes him so happy.  
5-Cook from scratch—he needs to know he's worth it.  
6-Whisper I love you to him when he is asleep—he'll smile even though he is sleeping.

.

.

The bathroom is filled with candles, and Bella is chin deep in bubbles, but I know it's no longer a method to mask our shyness.

"Hi beautiful. I love my present," I say, placing down a cup of tea on the vanity, and beginning to undress.

"I wanted you to know that there is joy and hope in that journal, too."

"I'm glad, because you bring me joy and hope everyday, Isabella."

Bella's lips twitch into a smile.

"You have your hair up."

"I thought you might like to sleep with the straight-hair version of me tonight."

"I'll take any version of you I can get."

I try to give her 'that look' she wrote about, whatever that look might be, as I unbutton my shirt. Though I hope it isn't obvious, I flex my back muscles when I bend over to pull off my undershirt.

Bella moves to the center of the bathtub and looks at me as she plays with the bubbles, gathering them up into her arms and blowing down the peak of foam.

Knowing Bella is watching makes undressing a game. How many times in our lives do we mindlessly dress and undress? But with my beautiful, nude Bella in front of me, I become conscious of each action. My movements are slow and deliberate. I pull my belt more gradually through the belt loops, and brush my thumb down the center of my bare chest and abdomen. I lick my lips before I reach for my fly.

_Bella makes me feel sexy, too._

As I take off my pants, a smile creeps up in the corner of her mouth, and Bella slices through the cloud of bubbles with both arms, parting them. Straightening her back, Bella bares her breasts above the water line. _Pink nipples._

"I'm glad you're not shy anymore," she says blinking up at me, "I love looking at you."

"Funny you say that, Isabella, I was just thinking the same thing about you."

I finish undressing and bring the cup of tea to the small table beside the tub before climbing in behind her and easing down into the hot, fragrant water.

"Mmmmm," Bella hums as she leans her back on my chest and I tangle my legs with hers.

Taking my time, I run my nose along the side of her face and kiss her temple. "Here, I brought you something to help you sleep." I hand her the tea. "Be careful, though, drinking this in the tub might be dangerous. It is very potent."

Bella takes a sip. "It is? What kind is it?"

"I was introduced to it a few years ago. I bought it in Chinatown at a medicine shop. The pharmacist blends the tea himself for me."

Bella takes another sip.

"Whoa, Isabella… not too fast. This stuff will knock you out in a few minutes." I offer my hand and Bella gives me the cup to place back down. "I had a bout of insomnia and this stuff took care of it. Any time I have trouble sleeping, I go back there and he mixes me a new batch. But you need to be careful drinking in the tub; I'm afraid you'll fall asleep right here."

"Thank you, Edward, for everything—the date, the gifts, the tea… your time. There is no one else in the world I'd rather spend time with."

I take the natural sea sponge _GQ_ told me to buy and begin to wash Bella's arms and shoulders.

As I move down to her chest and Bella's head lolls on my shoulder, I think about what she wrote in her journal, _taking a bath together feels more intimate than making love. _

I add more body wash so that the sponge glides easily over her breasts.

"Isabella, can I make a strange suggestion?"

"You know you can say anything to me, Edward."

"I know we're lying here nude and all, but… would it be strange if we didn't make love tonight?"

"Mmm… let me think about this." I turn my head to see she is wearing a big smile; she's teasing me. "Will you still cuddle and kiss me and hold me tonight?"

"Of course."

Leaning to the side, she turns her head to me so we can easily meet eyes. "Then we will be making love, Edward. I told you our first night together: We can make love without having sex." Bella reaches up to the nape of my neck and brings my head down to a sweet, soft kiss.

"We didn't do too well with restraint that night, Bella."

She narrows her eyes, and nods. "I have faith we can handle it now, don't you?"

"Yes I do, Bella." _I hope… No, I can._

Her smile is so reassuring as she rests her head back on my chest, that I realize she doesn't need an explanation. _I want to keep things simple, be kind—woo her and earn her love, her trust. I want to spend time considering how to make love to her in the way she deserves. _

I continue to wash her as I think about making "Bella soup" with the sponge later on.

"Isabella, I'd very much like to take you dancing this weekend… someplace other than your living room."

Bella turns to face me, her chocolate eyes, surprised. "Oh, Edward, I'd love to go dancing with you."

"Good. It's a date."

"It's a date," she repeats and bites her lip, looking bashful and so very happy. "Your turn." Bella moves to the other end of the bathtub and gestures, encouraging me to lean against her chest.

Bella uses the showerhead to wet my hair then fills her palm with shampoo and begins to massage it into my scalp.

"You know what this weekend is, don't you, Edward?"

It takes me only a second before it hits me. "Halloween?" I nearly squeal in a very non-macho voice.

Bella told me weeks ago she would dress like a schoolteacher and spank me with a ruler.

"Yes, it is, and I keep my promises."

The vigorous massage with her fingertips feels so good.

"I'm going to get spanked with a ruler?" _I sound so uncool, but I don't care._

"Spankings come to naughty boys… did you do something naughty today…? A naughty secret?"

_Naughty? Naughty? What did I do that was naughty? I think I've been good today._

"Um… I don't think so… but I will if you want me to."

"Maybe it wasn't naughty… maybe it was nice, very nice."

_I'm still lost. _

"Nothing comes to mind?" Bella asks.

"Um… "

"My car drives _beautifully_." _Uh-oh._ "Shiny new tires… purrs like a kitten… your mechanic said it was there most of the day, but he wouldn't divulge the final cost."

_My mechanic? What?_

I wipe the suds from my forehead and turn to her, wearing I'm sure a look of shock. "How did you…"

"I told you, I'm a good investigator." She shakes her head and smiles proudly. "Clearly, there was work done… and I know you wouldn't take it to a mechanic you've never met before—you operate on trust and relationships. I just had to narrow the area, hunt down the right Volvo mechanic and voilà… You really shouldn't spoil me. My next boyfriend is going to have a hard act to follow."

"Hey, not funny."

"Sorry, baby... Tilt your head back," Bella says as she shields my eyes and uses the showerhead to rinse my suds. _Okay, she's being very gentle, she said baby, she mustn't be that mad._

"Are you angry?"

"Yes, I'm livid, can't you tell?" Bella says, peppering my neck and shoulders with kisses between each word. "I don't know why you always ask that, love, I never get angry with you."

_No, she doesn't. Good point._

"But, you my dear man, now have a choice to make… you have three options: One, you let me repay you for the repairs, I have my own money." _No._ "Two, you let me give you a gift—one gift—without any complaints." _Hospital socks, playlists, journal entries, I love Bella's gifts._

"Or three, you have to live with this woman, _Edweerrrd_…"Bella screeches my name in the most nasal, whiny, grating voice I've ever heard. "Edweerrd, I can't believe you fixed my car, Edweerrd."

"Who _is_ that?" I ask, praying she goes away.

Bella starts to laugh and wraps her arms and legs tightly around me. "Do you like her? Rose, Alice, and I decided that if _The Real Housewives_ ever comes to Seattle, we're going to audition. I'm too boring just as myself, so I came up with that lady."

I turn my head to see her grimace as she says it again, "_Edweerrd_…"

"Okay, okay… stop. Please make her go away."

As we laugh, I turn completely around and pull slippery Bella onto my lap.

"Big tub," she says softly, glowing with a silly smile.

"First, you are anything but boring, Isabella Swan. Second, yours are the best gifts I've ever received, so I'll take option two… and third, I am madly in love with you."

Sliding my arms more tightly around her, I feel her breasts press against my chest—_nipples_—and I drag my nose up her neck and reach those full lips, brushing them with my own. I'm so hard… _Slow down, Edward. _

"Bella, you're pretty irresistible… do you think we'll really last the night?"

"I think we can."

"I'm going to have you in this tub someday." My voice is deep and certain.

"I know," she says simply, kisses my forehead, and slides off of my thighs. She settles back between my legs, against my chest. Within minutes, Bella is yawning and I've mentally listed all of the National Baseball League annual homerun record holders, starting with Ralph Kiner in 1950.

Bella reaches for the tea.

"Not too much, just another sip or two and you'll be out." Bella drinks a bit more and offers me the cup. I take a sip and place it back down.

Bella closes her eyes and I wrap my arms across her breasts.

"Edward… the tea… is it a placebo to help me sleep?" Bella wears a sleepy grin.

"That depends, is it working?"

"Mm-hmmm."

"Then it doesn't matter."

"Mmm. I love Celestial Season's Sleepytime tea."

I drop my head and Bella giggles. _I tried to mask it with at least a half dozen other herbal teas. The sad truth is that I keep giving Bella beverages with teddy bears on the package. _

"I'm glad, Bella."

And for just a second, she begins to purr.

.

.

.

As Bella climbs into bed wearing her new, cotton pajamas, I sit on the end, pull an arm's length of dental floss out, and I tie one end to my big toe.

"Edward, what are you doing?"

"You'll see," I say as I make a slipknot on the other end of the floss.

Bella gasps, "You read that part in that book, didn't you?" Bella looks surprised and a little scared.

"What part in what book?"

"One of the books we ordered has a big section on bondage and I read about tying toes together."

"Get out." _In all my reading, I never heard about toe tying. _

"No, really. Do you want me to go get it…? Wait, I think I left it at my place."

"We're better off. I don't think I could read about bondage and keep my hands off of you tonight."

"You like the idea of bondage?" She asks with first a wary, but then slightly devilish look.

I shrug. "I don't know… maybe. I sort of thought the blindfold thing could be fun sometime in the future," I say then quickly add, "but only if you really did like it, if you want to."

"Like I said, I did like it more than I thought I would, and yes, I'd like to try it again in the future." Bella scoots closer and says, earnestly, "Edward, I might have avoided topics with you, but I have never lied to you."

I nod. _No she hasn't… well…_ "What about when you say you're fine?"

Bella grabs a pillow from behind her and hits me over the head. "Don't start."

Leaning over, she gives me a quick kiss. "Goodnight, Edward."

I wait for Bella to lie down before pulling her leg to me, "Oh, no you don't."

She squeals and tries to pull away. "What are you doing? Wait, what is the floss for?"

Holding her obviously-ticklish leg, I show her the slipknot. "Weeks ago, when I found you awake downstairs, I threatened to tie a string around your toe so I would wake when you woke. Since I'm the world's soundest sleeper…"

"It has served me well," she smiles, smugly.

"Don't get smart," I tease, "I'm now forced to tie our toes together."

I try to get the string over her toe and she squirms and laughs as I playfully wrestle her and hold her leg firmly.

"No, no… not the toe," she gets out between laughs.

"Promise me you'll wake me up."

"Nooo…" She reaches for the nightstand where her teddy bear looks on. "Pedi, save me," she laughs, as I pull her back down to me.

We continue to struggle, until there are tears of laughter.

"Wait, wait," she says, out of breath, so I give her a second. "I'm probably going to wake up at least once, Edward. Please don't make me wake you; I'll fall back to sleep."

I sigh. "You have ten minutes to fall back asleep. If you can't fall back to sleep in ten minutes, wake me."

"No… ten minutes is barely enough time to go to pee. Forty-five minutes."

"No. You bargained to give me a gift, now I'm bargaining to wake up… fifteen minutes."

"Forty minutes."

"Twenty… and that is my final offer."

"Thirty?" she asks sweetly.

"Twenty," I say, unyieldingly.

"Twenty-five."

"Twenty." I hold up the dental floss again.

"Okay, twenty. You win." Bella smiles and shakes her head, "You win at having to be woken up." She sighs, amused, and whispers, "masochist," under her breath.

"I heard that."

After I take off the dental floss, I put a pillow between our hips and pull Bella to me.

"The Rock of Gibraltar?" she asks.

"I'm touched you remembered. It worked so well last time."

"Don't forget, Edward, _I _seduced _you_."

"That's right, you did, you vixen." I wipe Bella's long hair away from her face and kiss her temple. "You're going to suffer. You aren't getting any of this," I say with a sweeping gesture to my body, "until Halloween."

Bella looks up with a stunned face. "Are we going a full week?"

"Good question… should we try?"

She scrunches up her face in thought, then shrugs. "Yes. Why not? Let's try."

"Alright, one week. Now go to sleep."

I pull her back against my chest and blow in her ear.

"You know, it's not your fault, Edward. Your heavy sleeping, I mean, it's not your fault. I've been praying for you to stay asleep."

"Well, I'm going to pray for light sleep to counteract your prayers for heavy sleep. So there," I say in a childish tone.

"And you're not worried that God might like me a little more and therefore will listen to my prayers over your prayers?" The bed vibrates with Bella's giggles—she is in the silliest mood. It takes all of my strength to keep the pillow between us.

"I'm going to need a lot of special private time this week."

"What's special private time?"

"That's when I think of you and touch my hot, hard, cock."

"Edward!"

"I stroke it until I can't take it anymore and I come all over."

"Stop it. You and your bad boy dirty talk." She pushes back on the pillow with her backside as she laughs.

"Are you wet?"

"Yes," she says, mocking annoyance.

"Good. Now go to sleep."

"Evil."

"Spank-worthy?"

"You bet 'ya."

After a few long seconds, Bella says, "Edward, I'm wearing new panties."

"You are? Which ones?" Images of Bella dancing around in her new panties fill my mind.

"Not telling."

_Evil._

"You might get spanked, too."

"Oh, good."

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

A/N:

So, they are going to try a week without sexy time. Let's see if they can last.

Bella didn't give Edward a hard time about those gifts at all. Like usual, his fear was a product of his insecurity. Personally, I always had a hard time with Bella in New Moon throwing a fit about the party and presents-then again, maybe she was right. That was some life changing paper cut.

A picture of Bella's date dress is on my profile. I saw it in a shop window in Italy and knew she would want it.

I'm quite focused on writing the Alice x Jasper outtake, so the next update will likely be longer than a week away. I promise to do what I can to make it worth the wait.

Much love,

Liz x


	26. Fast

Hello! I hope this chapter finds you well. My only regret is that some weeks, work keeps me away from responding to more reviews. Please know, I treasure each one. Your words keep me going.

A special thank you goes out to **Honorella** (aka **Lemon_Charlotte**).

Thank you to my dear friends who do so much for this story: **orangeapeal**, **Sunshine (who beta'ed this)**, and **robsjenn. **

**This chapter goes out to all of those in education. May you enjoy your return or your continued stay.  
**

When we last left our couple, they agreed to a week without sex and teased about spankings for Halloween. Let's see how they are doing…

* * *

Chapter Twenty-six  
Fast

.

.

.

"Best week ever."

"Really? How so?" Jasper stabs his fork back into his salad.

"I don't know," I wipe the mayonnaise from mouth. "Bella's doing great. We get up early; I go running while Bella does her yoga. Breakfast together… I go to campus, Bella gets all sorts of stuff done. I don't know. It's all good."

"Excellent. It sounds like therapy is working out for her."

"Therapy…? Well, yes, but I'd like to think I have a little something to do with it."

"I'm sure you do, Edward. A supportive partner in times like this can be very important." I think he's placating me. "How's the turkey club?"

"Good." His salad looks a little lame, so I give him a piece of my sandwich.

"Thanks, Edward."

"You know, Jasper, I think the guy sounds a little like a tool."

"A tool? Who? Her therapist?"

"Yeah. He has all these little sayings," I lean in, "and he likes to be called, _Doc_. Don't you think he sounds like a tool? I mean, really… Doc?"

Jasper sighs and rubs his forehead. "Does it matter, Edward? You just said Bella was doing great. So what if he's using a nickname or whatever?"

"Yeah, yeah. I know." I go back to eating more of my sandwich. _Should I drop it? Nah._ "I'm just a little surprised she went with a man. You know?"

"No, I don't know. I'm not surprised at all. It's natural for Bella to gravitate towards a man. She has virtually no relationship with her mother, she's spent her whole life with Charlie."

"Yeah. I see what you mean, a Charlie type." It's easy to see someone like Charlie using a nickname like Doc.

"Edward, please tell me you haven't revealed these thoughts to Bella."

"No, I'd never. I've been totally supportive."

"Good. Knowing what a people pleaser Bella is, she'd probably dump him if she thought you didn't approve."

"Good point."

"So, have you made a decision about next year, yet? You should be working on those grad school applications."

"I know, I know… I change my mind every ten minutes."

"I'm not going to push, but you know I'd love for you to join the practice."

Ever since I told Jasper that I'm on the fence about my future, he's been talking to me about being partners. Working with Jasper in one career, or with Carlisle in the other—a win either way.

"Jasper, even if I started a PhD program next year, I wouldn't be ready for another three or four years." I dig my hands in my hair. I can hear each grain of sand fall through the hourglass as I continue to weigh this decision. "Augh… I don't know, Jasper."

"Okay," he shows his palms, "no pressure. My advice is to apply now, decide later. Maybe this is something you can discuss with your therapist. Your first appointment is next week, right?"

"Yes, next week." I go back to eating, hoping to end the therapy discussion. _Bella is right; I do like my bacon. _

"What else is happening? Are you still going to The Century Ballroom tonight?" Jasper asks.

"Yes. I really wish you and Alice were coming with us."

"I know. Normally, the Disco Halloween Ball is not my scene, but I'm sure Alice would make it fun."

"Bella tried to talk her into it."

Jasper shakes his head. "I casually brought it up once, but I could feel her tension, so I dropped it." He lowers his volume, "But I am hoping this costume shopping trip isn't only for Bella's benefit."

_Details?_

"Oh, so a little at home dress up?"

"Maybe, we'll see. Alice is making diner tonight. You two are staying at your place, right?"

"Yeah, if that works for you."

"I'm certain Alice is more comfortable in her apartment. The wheelchair accommodations make a considerable difference. In fact... you and Bella don't need to worry about staying in the apartment at night anymore."

_More details? _

"Do tell."

Jasper clears his throat; I think he's actually uncomfortable. "I am only saying that there is a good likelihood that Alice and I will continue sharing our evenings together. You can stay anywhere you want, but Bella doesn't need to worry about Alice's nights anymore."

"I am the best match maker in the history of the world." I come close to fist pumping.

"One match does not make you a match maker." Although he is trying, Jasper is losing his fight with a big, toothy smile.

"What do you think Alice is going to wear?"

"I have no idea, but I think this is their third shopping trip."

"I know. I'm pretty excited…"

I stop myself before giving Jasper the more private details of this past week—a week that Bella and I named, 'The Fast.' Instead of making love, we talked, wrote, and read. I put aside my men's magazines and we devoured books on everything from the evolution of human sexuality to the psychology of spanking.

I treated this week like an intense graduate course on intimacy. Analyzing each time we had been together, I tried to identify where things went wrong and why they went right. I made charts and diagrams with my findings—lots of charts. Through it all, Bella always made me laugh. One day, I came home to a gift-wrapped bottle of lube—real lube, not lotion or oil—and a card asking me not to damage anything during my 'private time.' Last night, I came home to find Bella pretending to be asleep wearing my huge down coat to keep me away. Excited about tonight? Yeah, I'm pretty excited.

"Here they come." I see Bella wheeling Alice into the restaurant. Alice has several shopping bags on her lap, but nothing from our department store. _She'll probably never use that store credit card. _

Wheeling Alice to Jasper's side, Bella gives me a big smile. "Hello."

"Good trip?"

Bella takes some of the bags, sits next to me, and gives me an innocent kiss.

"Very."

I reach for one of her bags, but she pulls it away, "No peeking."

"I picked up a few things, too," Alice says, swinging a small bag on her finger.

Jasper tries to hold back his smile as runs his hand from her shoulder to the nape of her neck.

_I've never seen him like this… touching in public? Not Jasper. _

~0~

"What? Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Bella shakes her head and looks away, but she can't stop smiling.

I know I'm staring, unabashed. She looks stunning. We're sitting at a secluded table, close enough to watch the dance floor, but dark and hidden enough to feel alone.

"What is this kind of dress called again?" I ask, sliding my finger under the white, stretchy material on the far side of her neck and nibbling the side close to me.

"It's a halter dress." Bella buries her face in her hands, laughing. "More booze, please."

"You're fucking hot, Isabella," I say against her neck, before pouring her more Champagne and sliding my hand up her leg again.

The floor length dress has a slit up to her hip. Bella straightened her hair and parted it down the middle. Without a doubt, Bella is the most beautiful woman here.

"You look pretty good yourself, Dr. Rev. Masen. I need to meet this Jay character so I can thank him properly."

I went to Jay for help on my outfit. He stopped me from getting the iconic white and black John Travolta _Saturday Night Fever_ costume. Good thing. There are about forty guys wearing that exact outfit tonight. Instead, Jay lent me his very own disco suit. It looks a lot like Travolta's but instead of black and white, it's all black. It's more Pacino in _Scarface_. _Yeah. We're Pacino and Michelle Pfeiffer, that's who we are. But I'm taller than Pacino_.

I drink more Champagne; my buzz intensifies.

The band begins to play _Le Freak_, and Bella asks, "Do you want to dance some more?"

"Not yet. I'm not ready to share you." I hold her head and trail kisses down her throat. _Everyone else is making out, why not us?_

"Everyone keeps looking at you," I say.

Bella tugs at my hair lifting my head up; it's a little rough, and I like it. "Baby, they're looking at you."

"No," I slide away from her and fill her glass. "That guy over there hasn't taken his eyes off of you for a half hour. I think you have a stalker."

"Where?" Bella looks over her shoulder.

"That guy in the Travolta suit."

"Can you narrow it down?"

"The one with the big afro wig."

"Oh."

Bella turns back to me with a sober expression. My high evaporates.

"Edward, you trust me, right?"

Fear lances through me.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," she says. Bella's fingertips are on my face; her eyes look large and serious. Unexpectedly, Bella leans in and begins kissing me tenderly. _What's going on?_

"Bella? That is you." A man's voice breaks our kiss. We look up to see Afro Man at the table.

"Hi, Jared. It's nice to see you. You remember Edward, from the funeral."

_Holy shit. It's Mike Newton's best friend. _As every muscle in my body tenses, Bella squeezes my hand under the table. The blue and red disco lights flash across his face, making him look demonic one second, and pathetic the next.

"Um, yeah… Hi, Edward." The flashing stops and I see his eyes glaze over; he's stunned.

He offers his hand, and reluctantly, I shake it. His palm feels cool, sweaty. I return my hand to Bella's and she gives me another firm squeeze.

"Would you like to join us for a drink?" Bella offers with a tranquil smile plastered on her face.

_What is she doing?_

"No… I don't want to interrupt."

"You're not interrupting. Are you here with the guys?"

"Um, yeah." He gestures behind him. Though I wanted to beat the shit out of the guy at the funeral, I feel a strange pang for him. _Lord, am I supposed to feel bad for this prick? I mean, this child of yours? _

Bella turns to me with beseeching eyes. "Edward, would you mind if Jared and I talked for a few minutes?"

"Um… okay."

She holds my face and speaks in my ear, "Tell Teddy, I'll be fine." _Teddy—my internal, raging sixteen-year old. _

Bella goes to stand, but I stop her. "No, stay here." _Where I can keep my eyes on him._ "I'll get drinks… What are you drinking, Jared?"

"Me? Oh… thanks, Edward. I'm good."

I walk to the bar, nearly backwards so I can keep watching them, still surprised by my offer to buy him a drink. _Maybe Bella's St. Francis grace is rubbing off on me. _

The bartender pours me two club sodas—I don't want us to get too drunk too soon—and lets me bum a couple of cigarettes from him. I watch them talk. There is good distance between them. _Good, keep your hands to yourself, Jared._ Bella glances at me and I know it's time to head back to the table.

When I arrive, Bella briefly hugs him good-bye, he shakes my hand, and disappears.

Leaning back in her seat, Bella closes her eyes, and inhales deeply through her nose. When her eyes open, she sees me holding the tip of the cigarette.

We don't say a word as Bella stands and I put my suit jacket on her shoulders.

When we get outside, we walk away from the large gaggle of smokers and the vibrations of the band's bass and find a private space half way down the block. I light the cigarette and offer it to Bella.

She takes a puff. "Are you okay, Edward?"

She's worried about _me_? I should know this about her by now. "I'm fine. How are you?"

Bella nods, "I think I'm good." She hands me the cigarette. I take a few drags and wait patiently, watching Bella work out something in her mind.

"I've been preparing for that, but I didn't expect it to happen tonight. Seattle is a small fucking town."

_Fucking?_

"Expect what?"

"Coming clean… telling people about you."

_I always forget that I'm Bella's dirty little secret. She doesn't sound happy and I feel a dull ache in my heart. _

"Is that what you told him?"

"Yes, I did. But mostly, I wanted to see how he was doing. He knew Mike wasn't good to me, but he was still his best friend. If I lost Alice in that accident," she shakes her head, "I can't even think about it."

"I know." _You've thought about it enough._

She's distraught, beginning to pace.

"This part of it is really hard for me, Edward." I hand her the cigarette and she takes several non-inhaling puffs in a row. "I don't like doing this to people, it goes against everything I try to be."

"Bella, what are you doing to people?"

"I'm disregarding their feelings. Like last week, at Newtons. I had to sit down all of those people and say, 'You've known Mike since he was a little kid, but I need to tell you what a shit he was to me before the wedding.' I'm getting really good at speaking ill of the dead."

"And you said they weren't surprised at all. Were they?"

"No."

"You see. All you are doing is telling the truth. It's been festering; you needed to do it. The worst is over, Bella. Mike's friends know; people at Newtons know… the word will spread."

Her sad eyes meet mine, then she nods and gives a small smile. "Thank you, Edward."

She hands me the cigarette and I take a drag. It isn't as good as those minty, girly ones.

"Bella, why did you kiss me in front of him like that?"

"I knew he was coming over. I didn't want you to think I was going to hide you." She holds her hands to her chest.

"You are my bright, shining light, Edward. The good part of coming clean is that I can let the world know how much I love you."

The grip I felt in my chest loosens. I put out the cigarette. "Come here."

Bella slides her arms under mine and I sway her while we embrace.

"I know this is hard, Bella, but it's much healthier this way."

"Doc will be so proud of me."

"Hey," I lift her chin to meet her eyes, "I am proud of you."

"Thank you, Edward."

I pull my phone from my pocket. "Should I call for the car?" I knew we would drink tonight, and cabs would be difficult to find, so I hired a car—not a limo—just a car.

"I'm good to continue our evening, if you are."

"Come on, love, I owe you a dance."

With my hand on her lower back, we proudly walk back to The Century Ballroom. When we walk in, the band begins to play _I Will Survive._

We both start to laugh. "They're playing our song," Bella says and heads onto the dance floor.

I think dancing with Bella might be my third favorite thing to do with her—maybe second. She lets me spin her around the dance floor using every move the elementary school nuns taught me, and some I create on the spot.

A few times I try to lift her, but because of her uncontrollable laughter, it always ends in me placing her down before she falls. She does like it when I dip her, though.

We continue to drink and to dance and to laugh. As much as I like holding her while we dance, there is a special kind of pleasure I get from stepping away and watching her. Bella dances with abandon—closing her eyes, lifting her arms, bopping her head, and singing at full volume.

We dance more, and go back to our table to drink more, kiss more.

When the band takes a break and Donna Summer's, _Love to Love You Baby, _starts to play, I finish the last swallow of Champagne, intertwine my fingers with Bella's and lead her back onto the dance floor.

It's not a song; it is a porno soundtrack—overlapping moans with a funk baseline. Sultry.

I lift Bella's arms and drape them around my neck. Her body lilts, completely at my will.

There is no dancing, little movement at all.

Just breathing…

And pressing hard bodies…

I look up from the shoulder I'm sucking on. I think the couple next to us is having sex. I don't care…

If anything, I'm envious.

I feel intoxicated, not only from the Champagne, but from the music, lights, smoke machines—Isabella Swan.

Bella moans in my ear, her sound mingling with the song.

I'm hard.

I don't care.

She sings against my neck, "Ahh, love to love 'ya baby."

_I shouldn't come in Jay's suit. _

I press my erection into Bella's stomach and she fists my hair, bringing my head to her lips. "Take me home, Edward."

I pull out the phone and call for the car. I can't hear the driver on the other end, but I'm sure he gets the point.

As we wait outside for the car, I keep my arms wrapped around Bella's waist and shoulders and my erection stay firmly pressed against her backside. The history of baseball isn't long enough to take care of this hard on.

Bella angles her head and I kiss her neck again as my thumb brushes against her collarbone. I want to slip my hand inside her dress…

_Hi God. I'm drunk. I know I don't usually talk to you during hanky-panky time, so I'll keep this simple. Please help me remember all I read about and thought about this week: Control. Honesty. Communication. Control. Thanks, God. I love you… and I love Bella, too._

I lift my head from her shoulder and repeat my mantra, _Control, Control, Control… _

The car arrives and we slip into the backseat.

"Back to The Vine, please."

"Certainly, Mr. Masen."

_He's a nice man. _

I hold Bella's legs over my lap and stroke the smooth skin on the inside of her leg, from her ankle to her knee. _That's control, right God?_

Bella begins to suck on my ear lobe, and whispers, "higher" in my ear.

I lengthen my strokes up the slit of her dress, from her ankle to the inside of her thigh… but not too high. _Control._

"Looks like some traffic tonight, Mr. Masen, Miss Swan. This might take a little while."

Bella tilts my head to her ear and says in a breathy voice, "I can't wait to get you home."

"I know, love, I can't wait to get you home, either."

Bella's breath is hot on my cheek, "Edward, I mean _I can't_ _wait_ to get you home." Just when I realize what she is saying, Bella palms me. "You can't wait either."

I look in her dark, hooded eyes and her smile turns licentious.

"Excuse me, could you find someplace private to park and give us a few minutes?"

"Of course."

_He's a very nice man. _

By the time his car door shuts, my hand is all the way up to Bella's hip—my tongue in her mouth. I reach her bare backside.

"No panties?"

"Thong, baby. Keep going up."

I find the band of material at her hip.

"Lie back."

Bella stretches out on the car seat and I drag her thong down her legs and off of her silver high heels. I hold the tiny wad of fabric in my hands and say a little prayer to come back in my next life as Bella's thong.

I shift to get on top of her. "Put your legs around me, love."

Bella stops me. "I want to be on top."

_Fuck yeah. _

I help Bella sit up and she straddles me. I hold her face for a second. She is striking in the moonlight. _Thank God for tinted windows._ Bella reaches for my belt, as I continue to stroke her cheek.

"Are you sure?" I ask. "You're good? You want this? We're good?"

"Absolutely. You?"

"Yeah, yeah, just checking."

I must have sounded funny, because Bella looks down and laughs, which starts my own laughter.

"Why did we go a week again?" she asks, yanking my belt strap.

"I forget." I struggle with the dress's knot at the nape of her neck.

"Here… wait," Bella says as she dips her head and pulls the top of her dress over her head and it falls to her waist. Her breasts are bare, creamy white, and glorious.

I run my nose around her areola, gently lick, and look up at her.

"Perfect, Edward. Nice and gentle."

_So much for all my reading about nipple clamps this week. _

I continue the controlled movements of my lips, tongue, and fingers. Her nipples pebble, responding so well to tenderness.

_Hi ladies, we haven't talked in a while. Sorry I was so rough with you last time. I'm glad we're still friends._

She unzips my fly.

There's a strange combination, a delicate speed. Like we're in a relay race involving eggs and spoons. Our hearts are racing, our breath is quick, and our kissing hungry—but our touch is soft. It's new for us, good for us.

"Oh, fuck," I grunt as Bella lets me free and strokes my shaft. My head drops back.

"Good, baby?"

"So good."

I hold onto Bella's hips as she lifts herself over me.

"Look at me, Edward." I do, and she holds my face in her hands. "I love you."

Bella slowly sinks down onto me.

I let out a throaty cry of relief, and both of our heads drop to the others' shoulder as I wrap my arms around her.

"Jes—cheese and crackers," she says.

We both laugh between our heavy breaths.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Yeah… I just need a sec."

Bella lifts her head from my shoulder. She licks her lips and kisses me as she lifts herself again and eases back down.

"Oh, oh, Edward. You have no idea how good this feels."

"Yes… yes I do." Bella's body feels hot and soft; she's so aroused. I am completely engulfed by her.

By God's design, there is a place in Bella's body for me to be. We are two incomplete puzzles that lock together, creating one complete picture.

"I like being here." _I want to build our house in here._

"You're welcome anytime."

She lifts again.

"Edward, I think I'm drunk."

"You are. Me too."

"Oh, good."

She lifts again—aching slowness.

"Am I doing this right?"

It's only the second time Bella has been on top—the first time changed my life.

"Yes, love. It's very slow… fast is good, too."

"Edward, I love your… penis." She starts to laugh and it ends in a moan.

She lifts again.

"I'm no good at dirty talk… talk dirty to me."

"What?"

"Say dirty things."

_Make this good, Masen. _

She lifts again.

"You're so wet, Isabella. I love how wet you get… _ungh…_ for me… you're so wet you're sliding on me."

She hovers, with doe eyes and parted lips. "More."

"You like to ride my cock? You like my hard cock, Isabella?"

"Oh, God."

"Ride my cock, baby. Ride it faster." _Because this pace is killing me._

"The car will bounce."

"Make it bounce, Isabella. I want you to feel good."

I start to move my hips, giving her more friction. Bella lifts more quickly.

"That's it, Bella. Keep going."

"Oh, God, I love you, Edward." She moans. "Please say the word."

"What? What word…" _I'll say anything you want._

"You never say the f-word. Please say it."

_Oh, shit. I say it a hundred times a day, but I've never said it like this, when we're doing this… I don't think I can._

"I know we're making love—but let's pretend—just say it."

I swallow hard and muster every fiber of macho I've ever had, currently have, and will ever have.

"Fuck me, Isabella."

_I'm going to hell. _

She mewls the sexiest sound.

"Fuck my cock. Fuck me fast, Isabella." My voice is husky.

Bella begins to really move… I can feel my orgasm mounting from deep within me.

I watch her breasts sway in front of me as she bounces. She's riding me, fucking me, loving me, and enjoying every second of it.

Tipping her head back, and closing her eyes, Bella smiles with her mouth open. It's the same liberated look she had on the dance floor.

My hands are free to move over her body, but I'm too lost in the sight of her to do anything but hold onto her hips. Even Keith Richards is in awe.

"Say it, Isabella… "

"I love to fuck you. I love fucking your big, hard… Oh, God, I'm close." She gasps and clutches my shoulders.

"I'm waiting for you, baby… I love watching you fuck me… because I fucking love you and I love making love to you…" _I'm a fucking idiot._

She starts bucking her hips over my slippery flesh.

The pull in my stomach spreads like wildfire, and the muscles in my legs petrify.

She moans, on the precipice.

I lay my hand on the side of her face. "Look at me."

"Come… with… me…"

I thicken and Bella tightens.

We fall together.

We are a pulsating, moaning creature with unblinking, wet eyes.

I hold Bella tightly to my chest as she continues shuddering waves of aftershocks.

We begin to come out of our haze, still blissful. I tuck Bella's hair behind her ear and look down at her face pressed against my chest.

"You okay, love?"

"Mmm. I'm sweaty." She peeks up at me, sliding her hands inside my suit jacket.

"Me too." I kiss the top of her head and rub her back.

"I think I like being on top."

"That makes two of us."

I lift her chin and give her a soft kiss. "You are a very dirty girl."

"I am," she says proudly, and a grin grows until it is ear-to-ear. Then Bella sighs and rests her head back down. "I had such plans for you tonight."

"You say that like we're done. I am nowhere near done with you."

~0~

Since we left hours before the band got to play Donna Summer's, _Last Dance_, I find it on my iPod and play it through our condo's sound system. I take Bella's wineglass of Pedialyte from her, drink some, and place it down on the coffee table.

"Dance with me?" I ask.

"Love to."

Taking her hand in mine, I wrap my arm around her waist, and feel her fingers slide up my back. My scalp prickles as she touches my neck. I close my eyes and gently sway us in our living room. This is my favorite dance of the night.

Bella lifts her head from my shoulder and serenades me, "Yes, it's my last chance, for romance to-oo ni-ight."

I join her. "I need you, by me. Beside me, to guide me. To hold me. To scold me," we laugh and sing like we have an audience, "'Cause when I'm bad, I'm so, so bad…"

The tempo picks up and I spin Bella. She lets go of my hand and heads to the stairs.

"Where are you going?"

"Getting changed. 'Cause when you're bad you're so, so bad."

I drop my head back like I've been defeated and listen to Bella laugh as she ascends the stairs.

I dance around our condo, waiting for her. When the song ends I yell up to her, "More disco?"

"I don't mind... play something sexy."

_Sexy? Sexy? Sexy? What do I want to listen to while Bella walks down those steps?_

I cue up Jet's, _Are You Gonna be My Girl._

Glancing at the staircase every few seconds, I pace back and forth wondering what she has in store. _She isn't really going to spank me, is she? Oh, Bella, what are you doing to me?_

I see her legs descend the stairs. _Ruby slippers?_ On the third step, she stops, turns, and runs back upstairs. I try not to laugh too loudly.

"Get that sweet ass back down here."

I can envision her hesitating at the top of the steps. And then I see them again—ruby slippers, a tight black skirt, a white—_oh fuck,_ she's wearing one of my white oxfords. She has a leather satchel over her shoulder. Bella's hair is up and she has on bifocals with dark frames.

At the bottom of the stairs, she strikes a sexy pose with her hand on her hips. There's lots of black smudgy make-up around her eyes, and her lips… crimson. _I still don't get the shoes._

"If you have a question, Mr. Masen, I expect you to raise your hand." She presses those red lips together, already playing a role.

I raise my hand and she gives a nod, so I speak. "I… I um… You look hot."

"That's not an appropriate way to speak to your teacher and that is not a question. Do you have a question?" _Oh, God… she is into this. She might actually spank me._

I want to ask her what's in the satchel, about those shoes, and a million other things… but I keep it simple and raise my hand again. I'm actually nervous.

"Yes, Mr. Masen?"

"Where do you want me?"

"I'm taking you someplace where no one can hear you scream."

_She stole my line._

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

There are visual and audio accompaniments to this chapter on my profile. If you need a good laugh, please check out the male dancers on Summer's, _Love to Love You Baby_ video. By the way, the full version of the song is 17 minutes long!

The next time you hear from me will be later this week with a Jasper/Alice outtake that I really hope you will enjoy. It has lived in my heart for a long time and I'm so happy to share it with you. It will be under the Outtake/Teaser story on my profile.

As always… love to know what you think. Does Bella have it in her?

Love (to Love 'Ya),

Liz x


	27. Oz

A/N:

Hello and thank you for your patience while I spent time on the J&A outtake. We have a few quick matters to discuss:

1-Saintward is feeling quite jealous from all of the outtake Jasper love. Jasper has always been better with the ladies in this story. Saintward is sad, but I'm overjoyed by the love this outtake has received from so many of us who don't typically like A & J fics. I have more planned for these two. If you haven't read, but would like to, you can find it under chapter 20 of the teaser/outtake story on my profile.

2-It sounds like many of us have wonderful memories of bad/terrific/sexy seventies music. No worries, Edward tipped the driver well and is getting the car detailed.

3-Thank you to **Tanja** from **_So You Think You Can Write? _**for interviewing me. If you'd like to know more about me, or my thoughts on SGMR, you can find the link to the interview on my profile.

This chapter is for the wonderful **Elli~Iris **who sent me a photo a million years ago that prompted this chapter and also pre-read this chapter.

And to the usual suspects: **orangeapeal**, **Sunshine (who beta'ed this)**, and **robsjenn **for all they do.

Let's catch up...

* * *

From Chapter 26:

_At the bottom of the stairs, she strikes a sexy pose with her hand on her hips. There's lots of black smudgy make-up around her eyes and her lips… crimson. I still don't get the shoes. _

"_If you have a question, Mr. Masen, I expect you to raise your hand." She presses those red lips together, already playing a role. _

_I raise my hand and she gives a nod, so I speak. "I… I um… You look hot." _

"_That's not an appropriate way to speak to your teacher and that is not a question. Do you have a question?" Oh, God… she is into this. She might actually spank me._

_I want to ask her what's in the satchel, about those shoes, and a million other things… but I keep it simple and raise my hand again. I'm actually nervous. _

"_Yes, Mr. Masen?"_

"_Where do you want me?"_

"_I'm taking you someplace where no one can hear you scream."_

She stole my line.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-seven  
Oz

.

.

.

"Do you want to be my teacher's pet?" Bella wraps her plump, crimson lips around each word and I wonder how long she's been practicing that line.

"Yes, ma'am." I say shaking my head, unable to believe the strange world I've landed in.

"Get your trench coat and put it on me."

I run at maximum velocity, retrieve my coat, and put it on her, carefully synching the belt at the waist.

"May I carry your bag?"

"Please."

I place the heavy satchel on my shoulder, dying to know what she has in here.

Bella runs her fingers through my hair on the side of my head. "Thank you, Mr. Masen."

This role-play stuff is pretty strange. I always want her approval, but now it's a whole game about getting her approval. It's… interesting.

Bella starts a strong stride to the door and I run behind her, fast enough to reach the door first and open it for her. Again, I race past her to call the elevator. _Where is she taking me?_

When we get inside, Bella presses the button for the top floor to The Vine's rooftop terrace.

I'm so excited, that I'm rocking back and forth of the balls of my feet. My hands are shoved in my pockets to stop myself from clapping. _She's not really going to spank me… maybe she is. _I dare a quick glance at her.

Bella's cold eyes are fixed straight ahead on the elevator door. I can't tell if she's having fun. The trench coat covers the naughty teacher costume that could pass for some as everyday wear. Only the ruby slippers are odd. I'm reminded how modest Bella really is, and how only weeks ago she hid her nude body from me. _Is she only doing this for me? I want her to have fun, too. _

_Make her laugh_.

I lean to the side and whisper like we're actors in the wings, "Hey, Bella, what's in the bag?"

She snorts and shakes her head, whispering back. "Edward, you are supposed to raise your hand."

I raise my hand, and repeat, "Hey, Bella, what's in the bag?"

"Grading. I'm a teacher and have a million papers to grade." she flirts with a sideways glance.

"Hey, Bella," I whisper again, "what's with the shoes?"

She stomps her foot and turns to me. "Mr. Masen, if you don't follow the rules, you will never learn what the shoes are about."

"Alice is behind the shoes, isn't she?" I ask, with a sympathetic wince.

"Yes," she says annoyed, but smiling.

The doors open, and Bella's eyes turn more serious again. "Are you ready for this, Edward?"

"Yeah, yeah, absolutely… You?"

"Oh, I am definitely ready."

I follow her out through the small lobby that leads to the terrace's glass entryway. She stops at a chair next to a credenza and asks me to sit. I place my hands on my knees and keep my eyes on my fingers.

"We've read a great deal this week, haven't we Mr. Masen?"

"Yes, ma'am, we have."

"Did you make yourself come after you read?" _She did NOT just ask me that._

"Um…"

"Answer me," she orders.

"Yes ma'am… sometimes." My chest suddenly feels heavy and I draw in as much air as I can.

I steal a glimpse and see Bella lift her chin and look down at me through her rectangular, dark-rimmed glasses.

"I want you to sit here and think about what you learned this week—what you found arousing and what you didn't. What have we done that turns you on the most, and what we haven't done that you would like to do. We're playing this game to explore our fantasies."

I nod my understanding. I gasp when Bella presses her hand to me and curls her fingers around my swollen cock against my thigh. Gripping my knees, I stare at her pale hand on me.

"If you look through that door or if you touch yourself, I'll punish you."

I snap my head to her, unable to believe what she just said, what she did. _Is she serious? _

Her cold eyes thaw, and she looks like Bella again. "Just teasing, Edward." But then she smiles in a way that makes me wonder if she is serious… _a total mind fuck… and totally hot. _

Bella releases me. "No peeking, Pet. Just thinking. " Grabbing the satchel, she disappears through the glass door.

My mind fragments and shoots out trying to tackle a million things at once. My first coherent thought: I have ADD. My second coherent thought: You are a good student; you know how to fulfill an assignment. You made charts this week, for the love of God. My third coherent thought: You are a _seminary _student_._ You write papers about Jesus and the Bible, the history of The Methodist Doctrine. _This is fucked._

My mind scatters again and I fight against the familiarity of the situation, but it is futile. I'm back in high school, waiting outside the principal's office. I'm in trouble for fighting—again. I've come to hate everyone, even those who were once my best friends. I want to be punished, to be sent home on suspension so I can hide in my bedroom, but I'm never that lucky. Carlisle, or worse, Esme will be brought in. Everyone will have sympathy for the kid with the murdered parents.

In my mind, I pull out a box and store this memory. I lock it shut and push it to the back away for safekeeping.

God gave me a second chance—Esme and Carlisle, college, baseball, Jasper, the church, and most importantly, Bella Swan.

I take a cleansing breath and start my assignment again: What I liked, didn't like, would like. _What I like: Making her happy. Winning her approval. Watching her come. _What I didn't like: That book, _She's on Top_, short stories about male submission. Only one of those stories led me to private time. More than anything, I found those women to be horrible—very rude with dirty mouths.

Fear begins to spread._ What if she has all kinds of crazy shit in that satchel? She is really going to do this, isn't she? What if Bella likes this and wants to start doing it all the time?_ Would I want that? _No_. Would I do it for her? _Yes._ What if she wants me to be her submissive and she begins to humiliate me? _Oh, fuck._ No, no, no. I know Bella better than that. This is probably freaking her out more than me.

Curiosity takes over. _Yes, I'm sure she's anxious. She's doing this for me… I've been baiting her for weeks to spank me…_

The sound of the door opening jolts me out of my thoughts. Bella's legs come into my view.

"You like to please me, don't you Mr. Masen?"

"Always," I murmur.

"Edward," Bella places her hand under my chin and lifts my head so I meet her eyes, "why aren't you looking at me?" Her brows are knitted together with concern.

"What we read this week… I don't know. Am I allowed to look at you?"

Bella runs her fingertips down my face and over my lips.

"Don't you ever hide those eyes from me." Bella bends down and gives me a soft kiss. "Edward, we are just goofing around, right…? We're not really doing the stuff we read about, are we?"

"Right," I quickly say. _We're just goofing around._ But I still don't know what that means.

Bella tilts her head, and something changes in her eyes. "Let's go back downstairs."

"You don't want to do this?"

"Edward, I have a nagging feeling you don't want to do this."

I think about it for a second and try for honesty. "I'm curious… but I like that we're just goofing around. You know, because I'm pretty goofy."

"I know. Me too." Examining my face, she shifts her eyes between both of mine. "Is he here, Edward?" I know who she's looking for.

"No. Teddy is locked in his bedroom playing X-Box. He's completely entertained."

"Good. The second any of this feels uncomfortable, stop me, okay?" Just as I thought, she looks more concerned than I. There is lightness in my chest and I wonder what I was worried about.

Bella smiles and inhales deeply through her nose, preparing herself. "Mr. Masen, will you open the door for me, please."

"Yes, ma'am." _Let's have fun._

We walk through the glass door and I take in the terrace. It's a shared space and I can't remember the last time I came up here. Dozens of votive candles are lit, adding elegance. There are four different seating areas. The furniture, with clean lines and thick emerald green cushions, would look appropriate in any tasteful living room. The largest seating area is in the center. It is a sectional sofa that could seat ten people, and a low, large coffee table in the middle.

"Pet," I turn back to Bella to see she's holding a key, "no one can come up here; it's ours for a long as we want it."

_How did she do that? You can't reserve this space. I want to ask, but it doesn't feel like my place right now. I simply want to follow her commands. _

"Follow me. Your condo has a lovely view of the water. I want you to stand here and look at the skyline. Palms here." She points to the ledge and, taking a step forward, I reach out and place my hands on the cold stone.

"Mr. Masen, would you like a glass of Champagne before we start?"

_There's Champagne?_

"No, thank you. Would you like me to pour you a glass, ma'am? I'd like to serve you in any way I can." I say, truthfully.

"No, thank you. I'm keeping my wits about me."

Bella retrieves a ruler from her satchel, and places it on the ledge. As I stare at the ruler, Bella reaches her hand back in and takes out a blindfold, then rope. _Rope?_

"I am fully prepared to use any of these things on you tonight. I asked you to think about what turns you on. You can pick any of these, all of these, or none at all."

"All of them," I quickly respond. My curiosity is now an obsession—I need to know what she's willing to do to me… with me… for me.

"Not so fast. Think about this. Touch them… I will use anything you choose." I look her in the eye and see she's deadly serious. She will.

I touch the blindfold first. It's black silk—much better than socks, ties, or even handkerchiefs. If I'm blindfolded, I can't see her in that sexy teacher outfit. Maybe another time. I push the blindfold to the side. I pick up the ruler and guide my hand down the sharp, gold edge that glints in the moonlight. _You're why we're here; you're staying. _I place the ruler on the other side of the rope.

I lay my hand over the long coil of red rope. It feels smooth. It's long enough to tie more than my hands. _What will she do? Tie my feet? _ I envision being bound, unable to move. _What if she's hurt? What if I can't get free?_ My heart rate picks up and I start to feel lightheaded… a little nauseous. I can't swallow…

"Edward," she says softly, her hand covers mine. "No rope… I'm sorry." Bella takes the rope and disappears behind me, I hope putting it away.

Immediately, I feel better. Bella's hand is stroking my back, and she is making soft cooing sounds.

I want to tell her not to, that I don't need or like to be taken care of, but that would be a lie.

I continue staring straight ahead and relishing the feel of Bella's hand. The lessons I learned this week—communication, honesty, control—come back to me.

"I'm okay, Bella."

"You're sure?"

"Yes… yes, ma'am. I'm sure. Let's keep going."

Bella's warm hand leaves my back, she takes the ruler, and steps away.

"Mr. Masen, turn around."

_Here we go._

"Spread you arms. Keep your hands on the ledge."

I do as she says, placing my palms back down on the cold stone. She paces back and forth slapping the ruler on her hand. My mind is quiet, I am present, and I am now completely at her will.

"Mr. Masen, I shouldn't punish you unless you deserve it."

I don't move a muscle or make a sound; I simply watch her walk back and forth with her cool, but sexy stare.

"And you know you've been a very, very bad boy."

I think of all the things I've done wrong since I've met her and begin to feel ill. She should punish me. Maybe if she does, I'll feel right again.

"Haven't you been a bad boy?"

"Yes, ma'am," I barely croak out.

"You have kept this…" Bella steps closer and presses the ruler against my thickening cock, "away from me for a full week. And that is a very serious offense." I close my eyes, free falling from the relief at hearing her words. I don't want to think about my real offenses, not now. Bella strokes me with the edge of her ruler, and I grow longer, harder. The ruler moves from my shaft to my balls, to my tingling thighs.

"Mr. Masen," she leans in and breaths in my ear, "you are going to be punished for your offense, so that you never keep this part of you away from me again. Do you understand me?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. Turn around…"

I quickly comply.

"Hands here."

She slaps the ruler on the ledge with a hard crack. Again, I immediately comply.

"Step back." _Holy shit, she's really going to do this. _I step away until my back is stretched out.

Bella unzips my pants and reaches her hand into my fly, firmly holding my erection in her warm hand.

"You can't help it, can you? You always get hard for your teacher."

Bella begins moving my flesh with her hand. My head is spinning—_is she gong to spank me or jerk me off?_ I'm lost in sensation.

"Answer me." _What was the question?_

I groan, it sounds pained.

"Are you hard for me, Mr. Masen?"

"Always."

"Do you touch yourself and think of me?"

"Yes, always." I draw in more labored breaths.

"What do you think about…? I want an honest answer."

I have no saliva, but I swallow hard. "Touching you… making you come… coming in you."

"Coming where?"

"In you… on you… in your mouth."

Bella kisses my temple, slowing her strokes. "Thank you for your honesty, Edward. I think about those things, too. Mr. Masen, it is inappropriate to get hard for your teacher, isn't it?"

I nod quickly, unable to speak.

She continues to stroke me and I'm sure I could come all over this wall if I let myself.

Her voice is soft in my ear. "Here are the rules… I will spank you once with the ruler for keeping yourself away from me this week. You may ask for up to five additional strikes. For each one, I will grant you a wish."

_I get wishes? _

Bella lets go of her hold on me and lovingly strokes my backside.

"We're going to keep these pants on. This fabric looks great on your ass." She snaps the tight polyester and I get a thrill thinking about the ruler. The anticipation is killing me.

Bella places a firm hand on my lower back.

"Are you ready, Mr. Masen?"

"Yes, ma'am."

There is silence—nothing but the night wind whirling in my ears-then the snap of the ruler directly across my ass. I'm shocked by the sound, and confused. _She actually did it._ It takes me a split second to grasp that the sound did not match the feel. It was feather light. Of course it was—it's Bella. The realization that Bella actually did it, the shot of adrenaline from this game, the build up to this one gentle spank, all brings about a huge fit of laughter. Forgetting myself, I nearly stand as I bellow.

_Crack _

Bella strikes me with force, hitting me low across my upper thighs, and leaving me burning.

"Don't laugh at me." She sounds desperately wounded. I still, all humor gone. I should stop this game and apologize, but if we end it here, end poorly—we'll both regret it.

Bella begins to gently stroke my sensitive skin.

I stretch back out into the proper position and raise one hand from the ledge. "Permission to speak ma'am?"

"That was too hard. Do you want to stop? We should stop." It's Bella's voice, mixed with fear and regret; the teacher is gone.

"No ma'am. I wasn't laughing at you, but it was… inappropriate. Thank you for punishing me. I don't want to stop. I'd like to have my wishes, please."

It takes her several long seconds.

"Alright then." The hard edge is back. _That's my girl._ "You will receive these one at a time. Are you ready?"

"Yes, ma'am."

The ruler lands so softly on my left side it doesn't make a sound, but I am a world away from cracking another smile.

"One wish," she says, "would you like another?"

"Yes, ma'am. May I have another?"

The second blow is harder and lands to the right. Bella is a good student, we learned from our reading not to strike in the same place twice—especially if you're beginners like us.

"Two wishes. Would you like another?"

"Yes, ma'am. May I have another?"

She takes a long time between each swat. I put away my list of wishes and meditate on my desire to give Bella what she needs—in and out of the bedroom.

Another light blow, and another.

"That's four wishes so far, Mr. Masen. Would you like another?"

"Yes, please." It's the last one, and I hope she makes it good.

The last strike is swift, but not nearly as hard as the one prompted by my laughter.

I feel her fingertips brush over my legs, ass, and back. "Turn around, Pet."

My legs sting as I stand up straight. When I turn around, I nearly drop to my knees.

At some point, Bella undressed. She is wearing a matching bra and panty outfit that is white and blue check—with the ruby slippers, it's obvious she's Dorothy. She pulls something from her hair and two Dorothy-like ponytails fall to her shoulders. With those doe eyes and little chin, she really looks like Judy Garland.

There is a sofa cushion in front of me. _When did that get here?_

_She is not! Is she? In spite of her fear…_

"You did so well, I think you deserve a very special reward." Bella kneels and looks up at me, taking off her glasses.

"Bella, you don't have to do this."

"Do you want this, Edward? Do you want to come in my mouth?"

"I… please… only if you want," I stutter.

"I want… You will keep your hands on the ledge and you won't thrust. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, ma'am… Bella," I say in a quiet strangled voice as I stretch my arms back out onto the ledge.

Bella unhooks the waist of my pants and pulls them down to my ankles. Everything crystallizes—this game is for her, too. She needed me to submit, to be in power to take me in this way. _God, I love this woman._

I gape down at her as she strokes me. She starts with her mouth on the inside of my thigh-so soft, so wet. Her tongue makes it's way along my shaft to the tip, she circles me and slips her tongue into my most sensitive place. I shudder and slam my hips back against he wall, pinning myself there. I'm already twitching in her hands, ready to come.

"I'm not going to last," I breathe, anguished, shaking my head.

Bella squeezes me between her finger and thumb, and I feel my orgasm recede. _She wants this to last. _

Watching her red lips moving over me is too much. I let my head fall back and stare at the midnight sky. The feeling of her hand stroking my thick base, and her magical tongue, dancing over me, overwhelms my senses.

I'm instantly there again, contracting muscles to stop me from losing it. _Please don't let this end already._ I groan, and Bella responds by pulling back. This is our new dance, with Bella in the lead. She brings me to the edge and lets me calm, again and again. Each time, I climb faster and higher, only for her to let me drift back down again.

Watching her lavish me with her hands, lips, and tongue makes me feel so wanted, desired. There is no fear here, for either of us.

Our eyes lock as Bella slips her hand into her panties, and strokes herself, moaning vibrations into my core. She reaches up and I suck her fingers into my mouth. I grunt at the sweet-salty taste of her.

I start to scrape my palms against the ledge in time with her bobbing head, itching to touch her… her mouth is so warm… the pressure is too great… the separation between us, too maddening.

"I need to touch you."

Bella grabs my hands and brings them to her face, her dark eyes assenting.

We are Bella and Edward again. Brushing my fingertips over her cheeks, her neck, her shoulders, carefully holding her head, I feel connected to her.

"Dear God, I love you, Bella. You… you feel so good."

She takes me deep and a quake rips through that reaches my chest. I cannot resist any longer.

I try to warn her, but I'm only able to make coarse sounds. Bella grabs my hands, threading our fingers together, and takes me deeper still, her throat closing around me.

I come spectacularly with a whimper and weak knees. With each forceful release, Bella squeezes my hands until they are pressing together so hard, we both shake. She swallows, and swallows, and swallows until I am nothing but a pulp of a man.

Unable to stand, I slide down the wall. I reach out my arms and pull her to me. Limbs tangled, I press her body to mine as I float back to Earth and we catch out breath.

Wide eyes search mine, needing a reaction. This is my Bella.

While I try to form the words, she asks, "Yay?" in a small voice.

"Yay," I pant. Eloquence eludes me once again. '_Read poetry' is back on the things to do list. _

I lift her chin to me and kiss her with passion, love, and more than anything, respect. Bella is smart, courageous, and loving; and I am blessed. When I pull away, I ask, "Are you sure I can't buy you that car?"

She laughs, just like she did the last time I offered.

"My Escort would be sad."

"Your Escort is sad."

She laughs again, stroking my cheek and kissing my neck.

_I let it go. There will be no pushing for a car tonight. _

"Mmm, Edward, you need aftercare," she says, stroking my neck.

_Aftercare? _I silently scoff_. _The only aftercare I need is a shower and bed. Bella begins to get up, but I pull her back tightly to me.

"I don't need aftercare. Let's just stay here for a minute. Can that be my aftercare?"

"I have that cream we read about. I don't want you to be sore… and we should talk."

'_Aftercare is for both partners_,' we read.

"Hey, Bella… yeah, let's talk." Her eyes widen slightly, and then she gives a small nod.

I caress her arm and she nuzzles my neck as I thank her for being so good to me, for overcoming fears, and for simply loving me.

"Did I hurt you?" she asks.

"No. And I'm really so sorry I laughed. I think I was just so surprised you actually spanked me. It came from nowhere. I would never laugh at you."

"I guess I'm not naturally the spanking type. It was fun, though." I think she's asking me instead of tell me.

"Yes. Fun. How about we go downstairs and have some fun in the shower." I bite her earlobe and playfully growl, "I'll take care of you in there."

"Wait… you don't want your wishes?"

"Bella, you have already fulfilled all of my wishes."

She bites that full bottom lip and I know what that means.

"You still want to play?"

"I know it's late, but…"

"Oh, no, Isabella. It's your turn. What are you in the mood for?"

She shrugs one shoulder, seductively. "You don't have any other wishes?"

_Don't do this to me. I've already come twice, my imagination is pretty fucked up, and we'll need lasagna if I'm really to have my dreams fulfilled. _

"Are you still feeling a little wild, Isabella?"

"Yes, sir. Give me something to think about in church tomorrow."

My body slacks at the idea of getting up for church—but I wouldn't miss.

"My church has a 12:30 mass."

"It's a plan. How about we have a nightcap?"

"Okay." She sounds disappointed, but she doesn't know what I have in store.

I help her to stand and take off my suit jacket, putting it on her.

"You're dressing me?"

"Yes. I don't want you to get cold."

"I'm not cold, I'm…"

I hold up a finger, stopping her and trying for a sexy Dom voice, "My wishes, remember. No arguing."

Her large eyes burn dark with excitement.

"Please, gather your props."

I walk to the sectional and stack a few sofa cushions on the floor at the end.

"Do you want the rope, too?"

"Yes. Place everything on the coffee table."

Trying to hide her smile, Bella arranges them in a line next to the Champagne, while I roll up my sleeves.

Slowly, I reach into the suit jacket, her breath hitches, but I'm careful not to touch her breast. From the inside pocket, I find the second cigarette and my lighter.

"You have another cigarette?"

"Yes." I sit down and hand her the lighter. Bella's hand shakes as she lights the cigarette for me. Anticipation is the best part; I don't want to shortchange her.

"Kneel." I say, exhaling the smoke and gesturing to the cushions on the floor next to me.

She complies. I sit back and relax, taking a few long drags as she simply waits. When I angle my head to look at her, she opens her mouth, and leans forward. I hold the cigarette to her bottom lip and allow her to take one of her quick puffs.

"Isabella, are you scared or excited?"

She looks away, contemplative. "Definitely more excited," she whispers in a husky voice.

"Good. Bend over. I want you across my lap."

She follows my orders, and I can feel her body trembling across my thighs. I brush my fingertips over her legs and watch her skin pink up. I don't need to spank her to watch her blush for me and I have no intention of doing anything that might hurt her, but she doesn't need to know that yet.

I turn her head towards the coffee table so she can see the blindfold, rope, and ruler.

"Should I choose what I want?" she asks.

"I didn't say you were allowed to choose."

I take another drag and fold up the hem of her suit jacket so I can see that fine ass. I slide my finger under the fabric on her thigh and move it down until it is between her legs.

"What to do you want, Isabella?"

"You."

I slip my finger inside of her.

"Ahh."

In and out, I take my time as I smoke.

"How did you get the key to the terrace, Isabella."

"Carlton… _augh_, Carlton your doorman."

I continue my slow ministrations, enjoying hearing her try to talk.

"Did you pay him?"

The way she grips my finger, it is no surprise it feels like Heaven inside of her.

"No… he likes you… he helped me… I made him lasagna."

"_My_ lasagna? With homemade noodles?"

I add a second finger.

"Oh, oh, ohhh… yes, I made one for you, too. We're having it tomorrow… Carlisle and Esme's." _Do not talk about them as we are doing this._ _Maybe I should get out the lasagna—no, I'll save that fantasy for another time. _

"Isabella, stretch out your left arm."

She does.

"Your right."

She does.

"Are you going to tie me up?"

"No. I just like when you follow directions."

Bella lifts up on her hands, and turns to me, with her jaw dropped. I withdraw my fingers and suck them into my mouth.

"You're kidding me, Edward."

"I prefer you call me Master," I say, starting to laugh.

"Oh… give me that ruler…" she groans reaching for the coffee table. In one smooth action, I put out the cigarette, grab the bottle of Champagne, and kick the table away.

"You had your chance. It's my turn to punish."

"I went easy on you."

"I know." I press her body back down across my legs as she wrestles against me, laughing.

"But why would you punish me? I'm so good," she says, feigning innocence.

"I believe you used the word _ass_ earlier tonight. That is a bad word, Isabella… too wicked for my virginal ears. And do I need to bring up that dirty scene in the car? I am a _seminarian_ and should be treated as such."

"You're not a virgin anymore, Reverend Master."

"No kidding."

"Are you really going to spank me?" she asks quietly, her anxiety evident.

"No, but I will punish you."

She starts to pant and writhe as I open the bottle.

"Edward… Master… I'm warm, can I take off the jacket?"

"No. I have other plans to cool you off. I told you, we're having a nightcap."

Bella startles at the sound of the cork popping.

I lift the jacket higher and run my fingers around the Venus dimples on her lower back. "I've always wondered if these are deep enough to hold Champagne."

I tilt the bottle, dripping the bubbly liquid onto her back. The puddle foams up and drips to the sides, as Bella bows her back. She squeals and begins to kick. I throw my leg over hers and pinion her with my arm.

"Stay still or I will spank you." _No, I won't._ "That is my wish."

"What are we on, wish 137… _Master_?"

Bella is aroused, sarcastic, amused—this combination is one of the many things I love about her.

"Oh, you are definitely getting punished."

"How… what… what are you going to do?"

"Are you scared or excited?"

"Both."

"I'm going to make you come so hard, you'll forget your own name."

Bella moans as I pour more on her, watching it stream down her backside and thighs. I lean down and begin to suck the carbonation into my mouth. Though she tries to move, I hold her still as I pull down her wet panties inch by inch, to reveal that perfect peach of an… "_What the fuck is this_?"

"What?"

"This bruise… you have a bruise across your ass. Did you fall?"

"What…? Oh, shit. No, I didn't fall. It's nothing."

"What is it? Tell me."

"It's embarrassing, Edward."

"Bella… I am worrying. Don't forget your rules."

"Okay, okay… I practiced snapping the ruler so I wouldn't hurt you. Maybe I took it too far."

"Oh, Bella. From now on, I am the Dominant and you are the Submissive."

She laughs. "Oh, okay, so nothing changes."

"You know what I mean." I say softly and bend down to kiss her blue bruise.

"I bruise like a peach, baby. You know that."

I pull her panties to her ankles. "I'll make you feel better."

Sliding my fingers inside of her, I slip my tongue along a place I've never been before.

"Oh, God-Gosh… yes, fuck, yes."

"You like that? I love when you surprise me."

I go back to work with my tongue and two fingers—my thumb circling over her sex.

"Yes… oh, yes… I like it… don't tell anyone."

I laugh against her skin, but I don't want to stop what I'm doing. I keep going until she reaches frenzy.

_It is much better to be on this side. I want control. I love control_. I play her body like an instrument-a_rpeggio_-and feel an incredible high mounting as she mewls sounds and words of ecstasy.

"More," she cries. "Oh, God, hold me..."

She starts to shake and I fold my body over hers.

"I have you, love."

"_Please… oh, Edward." _

"Faster?"

Her yes sounds animalistic. Back and forth, as quickly as I can, I grasp for her orgasm. The sound of our wet skin moving against each other makes my head explode. In this moment, I am certain that giving her physical pleasure is far more gratifying than receiving my own. _I need her orgasm._

"Don't hold back… come on Bella… give it to me…" Her cries are frustrated. _What does she need? I refuse to spank her. _"You like me fucking you? You liked to be fucked so hard, Bella? You like fucking my fingers?"

She stills, silences, and her ruby slippers drop to the floor. I see her toes curl. Her body erupts, clamping my fingers like a vise. I brace her as she bucks violently against me. The orgasm is so great, so powerful… when she peaks, her come hits the floor. _Magnificent._

_Dirty talk_, I think silently.

I scoop her up into my arms and press her face to my chest as she continues to quiver.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she breathes. _I'm not convinced._

"I want to get you downstairs."

"Yeah."

"I'm carrying you."

"Kay."

I wrap the trench coat around her, and throw everything in her satchel. They're will be time for a better clean up and dry-cleaning later… lot's of dry cleaning.

As we ride the elevator down, she keeps her face in the nook of my neck, and asks amused, "You don't think I have epilepsy, do you?" _That orgasm was like a seizure._

I give her a kiss. "No, love. You just have very special gifts."

"What's my name again?"

"You're Dorothy Gale, from Kansas."

"There's no place like home."

When we get into our condo, she asks to be placed down.

"Really, Edward, I'm okay now."

I rest her back on her feet and go to the refrigerator.

"Hungry?" I ask.

"No. Just tired."

"Last bottle of Pedialyte. Split it with me. I'll get more tomorrow."

"It's all you, Edward. I'm okay, I had some already."

"But it's good for hangovers."

Bella walks over to me and wraps her arms around my waist. _I love those ponytails._

"Edward, how do you feel about Gatorade?"

_It has more sugar than Pedialyte, and in clinical studies, it was less effective at replenishing after dehydration._ But that's not what she's asking me. _No teddy bears. _

"Yeah, Gatorade, we'll get some Gatorade."

"You know, actually, I'm a plain water type of woman."

"How about we get some Gatorade?" _Please, I'm the Dominant, remember? _

"My Edward," she smiles and shakes her head, "we'll get some Gatorade."

.

.

~oo0oo~

.

I hate this waiting room. The furniture is uncomfortable and looks cheap. When I'm a therapist, if I'm a therapist, Esme will help me design my office.

Even his wood laminate nameplate looks cut-rate: _Dr. Jack Sparrow._ As soon as I saw his name on Jasper's list of recommended therapists, I knew this was my guy.

_Oh, please God, let him have eyeliner and a braids in his hair. It would make my day._

"Mr. Masen," the tall receptionist calls to me, "Dr. Sparrow will see you now."

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

No, they aren't the hottest BDSM pairing in Fandom, but hey, they're Saintward and Gracella :-)

A link to the outdoor furniture and a link to the So You Think You Can Write interview with me are on my profile. Next up, Edward in therapy.

Any guesses on Bella's gift she promised?

Love to hear from you.

Liz x


	28. One of Two Ways

A/N

Hello everyone! Thank you for those heart-felt reviews to the last chapter.

I hope our friend Real Life is treating you well. She is kicking my butt.

A special thank you to **songster51** and **xoEMC** – lovely choices.

And to the usual suspects: **orangeapeal, ****Sunshine **(who beta'ed this), and******robsjenn **for all they do.

So… where were we?

.

.

From Chapter Twenty-seven:

_I hate this waiting room. The furniture is uncomfortable and looks cheap. When I'm a therapist, if I'm a therapist, Esme will help me design my office._

_Even his wood laminate nameplate looks cut-rate: __Dr. Jack Sparrow.__ As soon as I saw his name on Jasper's list of recommended therapists, I knew this was my guy._

_Oh, please God, let him have eyeliner and a braids in his hair. It would make my day._

_"Mr. Masen," the tall receptionist calls to me, "Dr. Sparrow will see you now."_

_._

* * *

_._

_._

Chapter Twenty-eight  
One of Two Ways

.

.

"Ed, it's nice to meet you, I'm Jack Sparrow," he shakes my hand as I enter his office.

"Edward, it's Edward," I gently correct him. No, absolutely not the Jack Sparrow I was hoping for. There are no earrings, no eyeliner. He looks more like Benjamin Franklin than Jonny Depp.

"Have a seat." He gestures to a couch and two wingback chairs, prompting me to make a choice. _I'm being tested._ I pick one of the two chairs and the founding father picks the other.

"So, Edward," he pronounces my name carefully to demonstrate he's listening, "tell me what brings you here today." He takes out a folder with the intake papers I filled out and a yellow legal pad as he looks at me through his small, frameless glasses. I'm reminded that Benjamin Franklin invented the bi-focal.

"I, I um… I'm sorry, how would you prefer to be addressed? Dr. Sparrow? Jack?" _Captain?_ I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. How does Ben Franklin get through the day when people ask him about his namesake?

"You can address me in anyway you feel most comfortable." _Another test._

"Okay, Jack… why am I here? Um, well, one of my friends, Jasper Hale, he's a psychologist here in Seattle… he suggested it might be time to return to therapy."

Jack Franklin begins to scribble on his pad and asks casually, "So, you've been in therapy before? How long ago was that?"

"The last time was the college counseling center, about six years ago-just a couple of sessions."

"And before that?"

"I'm sorry, can I ask you something, Jack?"

"Certainly, Edward."

He crosses his legs, and I do the same.

"How do you handle the teasing? I mean, people must ask you about your name all the time."

"My name? I'm not sure I follow you."

"Jack Sparrow… Captain Jack Sparrow?"

He cocks his head, perplexed. "_Captain_ Jack Sparrow?"

"Yes, the pirate. Captain Jack Sparrow, the pirate."

He pauses for a moment, then laughs a round, jovial sound. "Is there a pirate with my name? I had no idea."

_No idea? I picked a therapist who lives under a rock?_ I miss Liam, my child psychologist… but I'm not a child. _Should I let it go? No._

"He's a fictional pirate, from _The Pirates of the Caribbean_ movies."

"Sorry, I'm not familiar with the movie," he smiles and forces a chuckle.

_Movies, plural…_ _and how the fuck can you not know about them?_

"So, Edward, let's get back to your counseling history. You saw a counselor before college?"

"Yes. Ages sixteen to eighteen."

Jack begins to flip through my papers, getting a quick picture of my background. _He should have done this before I walked in._

"You're twenty-six now, right?"

"Yes."

"And you started counseling for?"

"Um, I was having a hard time."

"With?"

"My parents were murdered and I had to move in with some friends of the family. Um, I guess I took it a little hard. Can we get back to the movie thing for a minute?"

"No, I'd like to stay on this."

I groan and shove my fingers in my hair. "You've never heard of the _Pirates of the Carrabin_ films_?_ There were like three or four of them. Don't you go to movies?"

"Actually, my wife and I consider ourselves film buffs."

I stand and start to pace. "Do you mind if I stand?"

"Whatever makes you comfortable, Edward."

"Okay, okay, Jack, this makes sense. So, you and your wife probably go to small indie films, right. No block busters?"

"We like the block busters, too."

Clutching the back of my chair, I quietly ask, "Then how the fuck could you miss _The Pirates of the Caribbean_?" _This makes no sense, who is this guy?_

"Oh, yes, the _Pirates of the Caribbean_, I think I do remember that film. I'd like you to have a seat, Edward. Let's just relax for a minute."

_Oh, shit, I think I've scared him. _I quickly sit down and calm myself. _What were we talking about? _

"Sorry, Jack."

"Edward, it says here that you aren't currently on any medication. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And you've never been diagnosed with anything other than depression and anxiety."

"Correct, well, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." I say quietly, showing I can be a good patient.

"Can I get you a glass of water? Something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

"I'd like to put away the movie talk for a few minutes, okay?" _Shit, he is using this cajoling voice that drives me insane._ _Hold it together, Edward._

I nod and avert my eyes, giving him control.

"We don't have to talk about your parents right now. How about you tell me a little about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

_This I can do._

"I'm a student, a seminary student. I'm on the ordained track to become a Methodist minister."

"Oh, I'm a Methodist," he continues to write on his pad. _He really should be better at making eye contact during a session; maybe I should tell him that._

"I'm not certain about it though, um, recently I've thought about going for my PhD in Clinical Psychology."

He stops writing mid sentence and looks up at me. "Really, interesting, why the change in plans?"

"Um… well, Carlisle, he's the guy that took me in after my parents… you know, he and his wife Esme, and anyway, he's also my mentor at the seminary, and he thinks I should consider going for the PhD."

"And what do you think?"

"Ahhh, I don't know. I keep thinking God is going to give me the answer, but it hasn't happened yet… Can I ask you another question?"

"About the movie?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Sure, Edward." He's resigned to letting me have my way, but he seems in good humor about it.

"You know who Johnny Depp is, right?"

"British actor?"

"No, no," I shake my head, and calmly continue. "He is an American. He started on a TV show called 21-Jump Street and has had an amazing career since then. Oscar nominated…"

"Oh, yes, I do know who he is. I don't know why I thought he was British or French or something…"

"Yes, yes, I think he lives in France with his girlfriend."

"Okay, yes, glad we cleared that up. And he was in the pirate movie?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Okay. How about this, Edward, I'll rent it and the next time you come, we'll talk about the film. How does that sound?"

I don't know how to respond. _Is he mocking me?_

"Do you… often think about this movie, Edward?"

_Uh-oh… he thinks I'm crazy. _

"I, ah, no… no I don't. I'm sorry... I just thought that… I figured that… I don't know…" I sigh, swimming through frustration and embarrassment and try again. "I thought that with your name, every time you used a credit card or introduced yourself, maybe you'd get the same questions and jokes… and…"

I keep my elbows on my knees and play with my fingers, but we both stay quiet.

"And…?"

"I thought it would give us something to talk about."

"Edward, you said your friend Jasper thought it was a good idea for you to return to therapy, do you think it is a good idea?"

_Good question. _Things have been great with Bella the last couple of weeks, really good. Maybe we've made it through the tough spot.

"Murdered parents? That's some pretty heavy stuff."

"Yeah, I know." I say, continuing to crack each knuckle.

"You don't want to be here, do you, Edward?"

"No, no I don't, Dr. Sparrow."

I meet his eyes and I know he can see my fear.

"But you know you should?"

Reluctantly, I nod. "I don't know, maybe."

He's quiet for a long time. I now notice the clicking clock on the end table. It is very loud. _I should tell him how annoying it is when there is silence like this. _It's pounding in my head.

"Can I get that glass of water, now?"

"Sure." He goes to a small refrigerator and retrieves a bottle of water.

"Do you have Tylenol or Advil or something?"

"Yes." He says, walking to his desk and getting a bottle of Tylenol. "Headache?"

"Yes. It just came on."

I thank him and take the pills, sitting back more comfortably in the chair.

"I'm just going to ask a few simple questions, Edward."

"Okay."

We spend the next several minutes going through the basic details of my life. Where I grew up, when I moved to Seattle, hobbies, college major, nothing of great importance. My answers are honest and brief. For some reason, I become very tired and close my eyes while we talk.

"How do you sleep, Edward?"

I open my eyes. "Too well."

"What does that mean?"

"Um, my girlfriend has nightmares, or had nightmares. She would wake up in the middle of the night, but I slept through most of it."

"What does she have nightmares about?"

"She was in a car accident the day we met." I stop myself from going into the details, when I play this all back in my head, it sounds like too much to go in to. "Yeah, they're related to that."

"There's a lot you need to talk about, isn't there?"

"Yeah, but… not today." I meet his eyes—the final test. _Will you let me off, Jack?_

He looks at his watch, then at the clock, and finally the legal pad. _Come on, Jack, you don't want to get into this either. _

"Well, we're almost out of time."

_Oh, thank God. _

"I'd like to see you again next week, Edward."

"Next week? I was thinking that maybe I could just call for a session when things come up," I say, with hapless guilt.

"Edward, if you leave without making an appointment, I doubt you will come back." He gives a concerned frown with his wiry brows pulling together.

He's right. _Is he the right guy for me?_ Maybe I should try someone thinking about my past tires me.

"Edward, we can take this slowly."

_Slow is good. _

"Do you have anything available on Monday?" he asks.

"Monday? Today is Friday; Monday isn't taking this slowly."

"Do you know what the MMPI, Edward?"

"Yes, the long diagnostic test. I'm familiar with it."

"I'd like you to take it before our next session. If you take it on Monday, we can meet again on Friday."

I drop my head back.

_This is it, isn't it, God? I'm starting therapy again. _

"Okay, Monday." I give in.

"I'll watch that pirate movie this week. We'll talk about it on Friday."

I press my lips together and give him a nod. He's trying. Maybe I can help him; he could use some guidance.

~o~

I drive to campus, and stop at the chapel before my meeting with Carlisle. This is my preference, me alone in His House.

_Hi God, the question about my future came up again today, and I'm wondering if you have any messages you want to send. What is my calling? Where do you want me? _

I sit listening for the quiet voice of God for a long time.

_We do still talk, don't we God? I worry sometimes we don't as much as we used to. I'll keep working on that. Well, Jasper suggested I apply to PhD programs now, and make my decision later. I'm going to go with that as a message from you. _

_If you want to give me a more obvious sign about my future, I'm open._ I laugh at myself, knowing how ridiculous I sound.

My cell phone buzzes in my pocket and I know who's texting.

_Hold on, God, it's Bella. _

Edward,  
How was your session?  
Sent you prayers  
all morning.  
-me

Me,  
My session was fine.  
Yours?  
-E

It was fine.  
Looking forward  
to date night.  
-me

_Date night. _I'm performing a wedding with Carlisle tomorrow and insisted on having date night tonight, but haven't planned anything. Halloween disco dancing and spanking one weekend, and now I have nothing… and I'm thinking about this all in the House of the Lord, fantastic.

Bella,  
What would you like  
to do tonight?  
Haven't made any plans yet.  
-E

I cringe and press send.

The phone rings:

"Hi, Bella."

"Hey, Edward, how are you?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"You don't sound okay. Your session was fine? You don't use that word much."

"Yeah, I know. It was… I don't know… good? I'll tell you about it later."

"Okay, later, I'm holding you to that. Listen, don't worry about tonight. Let's play it by ear. We don't need any big plans, right?"

"Yeah, we'll play it by ear."

"You're going to be on campus all day?"

"Yes, I'm here now. I have a paper to finish and a bunch of stuff to do for the wedding."

"Edward, are you sure you're okay? How about I come over there and take you out to lunch?"

"Wish I could, but I don't have time. Just looking forward to this day being over. And for the record, I take you to lunch, not the other way around." _I can't hide that I'm temperamental right now. _

I hear her breathing on the other end, but she says noting for a long moment.

"Okay… give me a call when you get in tonight. Bye, Edward."

"Bye… I love you, Bella."

"Love you, too."

_Well, that went over well. _

~0~

At 6:27, I pull into my parking garage and text Bella. It feels much later than it really is, but at least I got some things accomplished today.

Love,  
Just pulling in.  
Starving. You?  
Eat, drink, man, woman=  
Date night.

Looking for her response again, I grab a beer from the fridge, and walk into the living room. Something comes into my peripheral view and I snap my head to look at it.

_Dear God, she bought me a piano. _

_No._

_Why did she do that?_

As if the piano is crushing my chest, all of the air leaves my body. I turn a living room chair around, sit, and stare at the thing fitting perfectly at the bottom of my stairs, like the space was made for a piano. I don't have to move any closer to see it is an antique, restored, Steinway upright. If I could move, I'd look up price estimates. I know it is worth more than a new car. _That fucking Escort._

I close my eyes and can smell the lemon oil, see Bella giving it one last polish.

There is a letter in Bella's fancy stationary sitting on the music desk. I'm not ready to read it.

_Holy, shit. A fucking Piano? It's too much, way too much. _Clearly, she has no idea how much money I have. If she did, she'd never squander her small savings on a present for me. She's worried about health insurance, but bought me a piano. _I can't accept this._

I continue to drink my beer and consider how I can return it without hurting her feelings, or maybe keep it and somehow pay her back.

_Why does love feel so heavy?_

It sits quietly seducing me, tempting me to touch. It is so beautiful. I bet the sound is unsurpassed by anything I've ever played. I would like to keep it. My mouth begins to water. _I'm salivating over a piano?_

I snatch the letter and sit back in my chair, rubbing my hand over my whiskers as I prepare to read. _Another wax seal, broken:_

_My Love,_

_I've been searching for this since the night you told me you played. _

_This is for me as much as it is for you. _

_Play for me, Edward. _

_Play this piano._

_Accept my love._

_-Me_

_PS-call when you are done freaking out. _

_.  
_

Bella Swan, you know me so well.

The letter goes in the back pocket of my jeans. I sit on the bench and fold back the key cover.

"Alright, beautiful. Let's not get too attached, but I want to see how you sound."

One lay of my fingers on the keys. _Sonorous._ Mellow, rich perfect sound. _Yes, the finest I've ever played._

I skate my fingers over the keyboard. Where to begin? Where to begin? My mind quickly sails to a vision of my mother. _Für Elise, my mother's favorite. _

Half way through, I feel so light that I begin to laugh. I can't even remember the last time I played, nor know why I don't play at Carlisle and Esme's house.

_I've already fallen in love with this piano, an extension of me. Can I keep it?_

My cell phone buzzes and I force myself to stop to look at the text:

Edward,  
Heads up-Bella is  
on her way over.  
Be gracious or  
you will crush her.  
-Alice Brandon

_No, I can't crush her. _

Music for Bella… I can't decide.

The first melody that comes to mind is Billy Joel's, _She's Got a Way._ As I play, the lyrics are sung in my mind. '_She comes to me when I'm feeling down, inspires me without a sound, she touches me, I get turned around…"_

The locks on the front door click open. I feel her walk towards me, sliding over on the bench giving her room, I sing aloud, "She's got a smile that heals me I don't know what it is, but I have to laugh when she reveals me…"

Bella sits next to me, and though I don't stop playing, I tip my head, touching hers. Before I finish the song, another comes to me, Etta James, _At Last. _I sing what I can of the song and when I don't know the lyrics, I mumble something silly that makes Bella laugh.

More songs come to me, and I play them all. Sometimes just a few bars, sometimes the whole piece, sometimes with words and sometimes not… but it all pours out of me so simply and the sound of this piano is so rich, I cannot stop. The selections are a musical recollection of my parents' love for each other.

Paul McCartney's, _Maybe I'm Amazed_ … Van Morrison's, _Have I Told You Lately…_

Each time I look at her and sing, "Have I told you lately that I love you?" She responds softly, "Yes," and continues to beam at me. Her smile is like the sun… "You are my sunshine my only sunshine…"

I take note of each time she sighs or clutches her chest.

Thinking of last weekend, I play a few bars of _Somewhere Over the Rainbow_, she claps and laughs when I sing, "Macho, Macho, Man…"

I can't quite get the melody of _Love to Love You Baby_, and it's probably because there isn't one, but Roberta Flack's song is like second nature, my parents loved it so.

"The first time, I ever I saw your face…"

Bella jumps in to sing in her thin, high voice, "It had a bruise on the cheek and a cut on the lip…"

"Even-with-the-bruise-and-cut-lip," I squeeze in, "I still thought the sun rose in your eyes, and the moon and stars were the gifts you gave…"

Using my best impersonation of Joe Cocker, I give her, "You are so beautiful to me…" By the end of the song, it is my own voice.

I don't want our musical interlude to end, because I don't know what I'll say. Butterflies swarm into the light space around my heart, so I keep it going with one last song:

"It's a little bit funny, this feeling inside…

Bella makes a soft "oh" sound and wraps her arm around my waist as I sing Elton John's, _Your Song._ I wish I wrote it—mine to give to her.

"…I hope you don't mind that put down in words, how wonderful life is while you're in the world."

I play the last note and sit in a pause of silence. Bella takes my hands and brings each one, in turn, to her lips pressing kisses to my faint scars. It's one of those moments when I leave my body and wonder whose life I'm watching.

Bella stands and pulls my hand, I assume to lead me upstairs, but I stop her. Sitting on the edge of the bench, I rest the top of my head to her stomach and hold her hips. Her fingers go to my hair. We sit like this as I try to structure a coherent, if not eloquent, message, but I fail.

"What is it, Edward?"

Feeling small, I look up at her. "I've been trying for a long time to find the words to tell you what you mean to me… but I can't."

She tilts her head, her eyes so sympathetic. "Edward, you just spent the last hour telling me how you feel."

Though I'm glad she understands, I don't know if I'll ever believe it is enough. _Now for the hard part. _I laugh and shake my head, knowing this is in vain, "Bella, this gift is… really big."

"So is my love." She smiles sweetly, but then cocks her head playfully, like she's ready to argue. "Besides," she shrugs, "it's used."

"It's an antique."

"Same thing."

_Feisty. _I turn my attention to what she's wearing and smooth my hands down her black skirt I don't think I've seen before. It hugs her hips and legs, showing me her new, though slight, slopes and curves. I run my fingers under the hem and push up the material as I slide my hands up the black silk of her stockings.

"I wish I got you a grand… or at least a baby grand," she says, gliding her finger over the wood of the piano.

"The upright is perfect. Anything bigger wouldn't work here."

I feel lace and then the soft flesh of her thighs. I look up at her and she wears a wicked grin as I reveal her garters. I've only seen her in garters on her… wedding day.

"I like these."

"Thought you might." Bella unbuttons her blouse. She's wearing a black lace bra. "I thought tonight would end in one of two ways, so I did a little shopping- Vannina Vesperini."

"Please tell me you used the credit card."

"I used the card."

I know she did it only to make me feel better. She bought me a piano, and I bought her underwear. _I rule. _

I remove her blouse and skirt and gaze at Bella in her black lace and high heel glory. My glory. I have no idea who this Vannini Vesperini person is, but she's getting a thank you card in the mail from me tomorrow.

Bella sighs and says again, "I really wish I got a grand… we can't make love on an upright."

Quickly, I stand and turn her, then help her lie back across the bench. Reaching down, I hold her face and brush my thumb over her swollen bottom lip. She bites the pad of my thumb, laughing. I drag my hand down her throat, between her breasts, the center of her body, and get on my knees.

"I'm getting oral for giving you a piano?" She teases, knowing I don't need a reason.

"Mm-hmm." I remove her panties, and hook her legs over my shoulders. "I love you. I love my new piano. Thank you, Bella." It is a simple truth.

"You are welcome." She sighs and gracefully stretches her arms above her head.

_My piano and my Bella—my first threesome. _

I dip my head and bring my mouth to her…

~0~

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather go someplace else? Something more upscale?" I ask as we approach the door to Kell's, later that night.

"I love Kell's. We're family here… I don't know why we've never come back."

After a quick scan of the bar, I can see we are safe from the evil red head.

Bella and I share steak and crab cakes as she tells me about how she and Alice searched for the piano, as well as her shopping trip.

"Honestly, Edward, Alicia and Rachel were great. I almost went out for drinks with them, but I didn't have time. They, um, they wanted me to apologize to you again." She stifles a smile.

"Oh, so they told you about my little journey through women's lingerie?"

"Yes. And I told them they better be sweet to you the next time you come in there… but I can't really blame them, you must have been adorable looking at bras."

"Adorable?"

"Yes. Adorable. What's wrong, don't you like that word?"

"It's not very masculine."

"Awww. I'm sorry. But sometimes, you are adorable, Edward."

Bella drinks another sip of her wine, and I think back to our fist time here. I was so nervous. _We've come so far._

"Edward, you promised to tell me about your session today. How was it?"

"It was… I don't know. Honestly, Bella when I think about all I have to talk about to get this guy up to date, it exhausts me. The move to Seattle, my parents, moving in with Carlisle…" My voice trails off.

"Is that why you don't talk about it with me?"

"I don't?"

She shakes her head and gives a half smile.

"We talk all the time."

"Yes, but not about your past."

_Huh, this is like our first time here, maybe we haven't come that far. _

"What do you want to know, I'll tell you anything."

"Wow, okay… how did you learn to play the piano?"

"I don't remember learning to play. My mom told me that I always banged on the piano as a kid, and one day, the banging sounded like the melody on the radio. I play by ear. I mean, I can read music, too. But for the most part, I can pick out what I hear."

"Really? And you never thought about being a musician?"

"Oh, no. I can't compose, and when it comes to performing, well, it's like we talked about with me being a minister, I don't like an audience."

When Molly asks if we want another round, Bella and I decide to call it a night and ask for the bill.

"Your turn for questions, Ms. Swan. How was your session today?"

"You don't really want to know, do you?"

"Yes, tell me."

Bella digs both of her hands in her hair and groans.

"That good, huh?"

"It's fine. It's starting to get really hard, though."

"How so?"

"Well, I guess I'm trying to figure out the big question, you know?" Bella frowns in concentration, searching for words. "Why did I stay with him after he turned?"

"He _turned_?"

"Yes, that's what Doc and I call it." For a moment, Bella smiles like she's thinking fondly, of whom I don't know. Mike? Doc? "Edward, Mike wasn't always a bad guy. When we first started dating, I was the center of his world. He and I were… best friends. And when he… turned, I stayed with him thinking that it was a phase, some rough patch that we needed to work through. Well, obviously, I stayed too long and…"

Bella stops abruptly and reaches for her wine glass, but it's empty. Silently, she stares at the wineglass while she rolls the stem between her thumb and finger.

"And," I carefully prompt her.

"And, you know the rest. I wished for his death and it came true. He didn't deserve to die." She breaks out of her quiet introspection and gives a small laugh. "Okay, enough of that. Who needs Crazy Bella on a Friday night?"

"You're not crazy. I don't want to hear you talk about yourself like that—ever. Listen, Bella, maybe you're pushing this a little too hard. I mean, why are you still going three times a week? It's a little intense, give yourself a break."

"I'd rather push forward than go back. Everything is happening so fast, I feel like I have a ton of stuff to talk about."

_So fast? Us? Is she talking about us in therapy? _

"Yeah, a lot to talk about… Bella, do you talk about our relationship with Doc?"

She gives me a furtive gaze. "Yes…? Is that wrong? Shit, Edward, I've never been in therapy before. I don't know."

"Of course it's not wrong, I was just asking, that's all."

It feels like lead dropped in my stomach, but I try to keep an unaffected expression. All I can think about is last weekend. _Was Doc somehow behind our Halloween role play? I do NOT want to know. _

Just as I'm looking for a way to end this conversation, Molly approaches the table with a round of drinks.

"Oh, thanks Molly, but I think we're done."

"I know, Edward." Her voice is low and serious. "You don't have to drink them, Victoria sent them over." Molly gestures with her head towards the bar and I see the red head sitting in her typical spot at the end, by the door.

Bella whips her head, looking over her shoulder. "Who's Victoria?"

"No one. Let's go, Bella."

Bella continues to stare at her, as Victoria gives a condescending wave. "She's a friend of yours?"

"No, not a friend. I didn't even know her name until just now. She hangs out here sometimes."

FUCK. _God, please, immediate transport, for both of us—I'm begging you._

"But you talk to her." Bella sounds bemused, like even she has fallen under the red head's trance.

"I don't talk to her…"

"She talks to you," Bella turns to me and I see he complexion pale.

Victoria starts her evil laugh, and Bella turns to look at her again. "She's laughing at me."

"No. She's laughing at me, Bella."

"She comes on to you, doesn't she, Edward?"

"No," I lie vehemently, but I'm not sure why. _It seems like the right thing to do_. Then Bella turns back around and narrows her eyes at me. "I mean, yes, she does, did… but you have nothing to worry about. You know that, right?"

"Yes," she says unconvincingly.

"Let's go, Bella." I grab her hand and say under my breath, "Don't even look at her," as I make my way towards the door.

As we walk by, Victoria cackles, "What's wrong, didn't you like your drinks?"

Before I have a chance to react, or pull her through the door, Bella releases my hand and marches to Victoria.

"I'm sorry. We didn't mean to be rude. Thank you for the drinks, but I'm really eager to get Edward home, if you know what I mean."

_Holy shit._

I lean over and grab Bella's hand, but before we can make it through the door, I hear Victoria again. "You are so cute!"

Bella yanks her hand free and strides back up, getting in Victoria's face.

"Don't let appearances fool you. If you ever touch him, talk to him, or even look at him again, I will come back here and rip your throat out." I'm shocked to watch Bella lean further in and, Lord help me, curl her lip in a snarl. Victoria cowers.

Bella turns on her heel and flies right past me, out of the bar. I go chasing after her, but as soon as I get outside, all I can manage to do is watch Bella stomp down the rain-covered street in her high heels.

"Well? Are you coming or not, Edward?" She snaps. _Wow, she is mad. I can't believe I once called her 'little one.'_

I run after her calling, "Bella you shouldn't have done that. She's dangerous."

She stops and turns to me. "_She's_ dangerous? I'll tell you who's dangerous, Edward. _I'm_ dangerous." Bella then continues her march up the street.

"I mean… she's… not like you. Women like that…" I try to explain, catching up to her.

"I'll tell you something. Edward. _Women_ know women like that, not men. _I_ know women like that. I'll tell you something else, you better stay away from her because I just made the fight for you a hundred times more interesting. You think she came on to you before? Watch out."

"Who are you?"

"I am Bella Swan, The Capable and Strong, beloved daughter of Charlie Swan and girlfriend of Edward Masen. _That_ is who I am." _She has definitely rehearsed that._

Again, I'm chasing after her. "Bella slow down, you're going to fall in those heels."

"I am _not _going to fall. I'm an adult woman who can walk in high heels."

As soon as she finishes her sentences, Bella wipes out, falling hands and knees.

"Darn, damn, _fuck_!"

I try to help her up, but she bats me away. "I'm okay, I just need a second." I kneel by her, but don't touch. The vision of an angry, hurt Bella sitting on the wet Seattle street shreds my heart. I just want to explain that I didn't do anything wrong. _Does she know that?_

I go to touch her ankle, but she shields it away from me. "It's okay."

"It's swelling."

"I'm fine." Though I don't hear anything, her phone must be ringing. Bella reaches for her purse. "It might be Alice… it is."

Bella evades my eyes as she answers.

"Hi Alice… no, I'm fine… long story… I just met Lauren Mallory the Second, and she's worse than the first." I hear Alice yelling on the other end of the line. "I'll tell you everything later… He isn't…? No, no. I'm coming home right now… Yeah, good idea... Let's do that… Oh, I think he likes it."

_The piano. _I mouth, '_I love it_.'

Bella nods and mouths, "_I know, sorry_," back to me.

Bella hangs up the phone and crumples-all the adrenaline gone.

"Let me help you up."

Bella tries to hobble on one foot. _I need to tell her I've haven't done anything wrong.  
_

"I'm carrying you. You need to go to the emergency room."

"No. No hospitals, no carrying. Just… no."

She tries to continue walking on her own.

"If you won't let me carry you, at least lean on me."

Bella nods, then wraps her arm around my waist and we take a few steps in silence.

"I just need to get a cab. Help me to the cross street. I'll ice it when I get home. I'll be fine tomorrow."

"You want to go back to your place?"

"Yes. Jasper isn't home yet and Alice is having some trouble. She needs me."

We reach the corner and I can't help but to notice the swelling ankle.

"Bella, you need an x-ray."

"No, I don't. People twist their ankles every day. It's no big deal."

Bella keeps her eyes away from me. _I can't read her_, _is she mad at me?_

"Okay, we'll put ice on it."

"I think… I think I just want to go see Alice. We haven't had much time together. Is that okay?"

_Oh. She is going to the apartment, but I'm not. _

"Yeah, okay."

"Thanks."

When the cab pulls up, Bella finally looks up at me. "Ride with me?"

_She doesn't trust me._

"Bella, I told you there's nothing going on with Victoria. I'm not going back there. I'm going straight home."

"Oh." It is such a small sound. "I didn't think you were. I just thought you'd like to take a ride together so we could say goodnight. Sorry."

I've never seen this kind of sadness in her eyes before.

Before I can say anything, Bella gets in the cab and it's driving away.

_God, what do I do? Run?_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

**What should he do?**

I would love to hear from you. Any favorite songs that Edward should sing to you?

-Liz x

PS-next post, about ten days.


	29. Swing

Thank you to **Elli~Iris** (elliedgasmswoon) for pre-reading this chapter.

A special thank you to **xoEMC.**

And to the usual suspects: **orangeapeal, Sunshine **(who beta'ed this), and** robsjenn **for all they do.

.

.

.

From Chapter Twenty-eight:

_When the cab pulls up, Bella finally looks up at me. "Ride with me?"_

_She doesn't trust me._

"_Bella, I told you there's nothing going on with Victoria. I'm not going back there. I'm going straight home." _

"_Oh." It is such a small sound. "I didn't think you were. I just thought you'd like to take a ride together so we could say goodnight. Sorry."_

_I've never seen this kind of sadness before. _

_Before I can say anything, Bella gets in the cab and it's driving away. _

_God, what do I do? Run?_

.

.

* * *

Chapter Twenty-nine

Swing

.

_RUN. _The voice of God yells in my mind.

The cab stops at a red light a few blocks down and I take off sprinting after it. "BELLA!"

When the light turns green, the cab pulls to the curb. The door opens as I reach it. I slide in the backseat and Bella says, "Hi Edward," attempting a sweet, carefree voice, although tears are steaming down her face.

She slides over to me, wrapping her arms around my neck, and I press her to my chest, rising and falling with gulps of air. I'm relieved that she doesn't seem angry with me, but I proceed with caution. "It's okay… What just happened, Bella?"

"Good question." A fresh wave of hot tears dampens my shirt.

"Shhh, it's okay." I kiss the top of her head. In this moment, I feel whole again. _This _I know how to do. Though her sadness pains me, ending her sadness gives me purpose. I know my place in this universe, her universe. _Why didn't I get in the cab when she asked? Stupid._

"I can't seem to stop shaking or crying, sorry, I'm a mess."

"Yes, you are." I say softly, trying to bring a smile, and going for my handkerchief.

She tries to smile, as she wipes her tears. "I felt this meltdown coming and tried to spare you."

"Is that why you ran?"

"Ran? I didn't think I was running… I guess… okay, maybe I was running." She laughs once, nuzzles closer to my neck, drying her eyes. "So sorry, I thought I'd have a good cry, pull myself together, and vent to Alice…. Damn it, why can't I stop shaking?"

I hold her more tightly. "It's the adrenaline crash. It will pass." I know this feeling, the body turning liquid after a fight, the waves of emotions colliding within. Tonight I met Bella the fighter, I saw a glimpse of her in the woods after the funeral, but this time it wasn't instigated by me, or was it?

Rubbing her arm and holding her hand, I hope to absorb her tremors. I spend the next few minutes silently replaying the night in my mind, but really, all I can think about is her jumping in the cab.

"Bella, you asked me not to run from you. I'm going to ask you for the same. I'd rather see you melt down than to have you run from me. "

She's quiet for several long seconds. "I'll try."

"Try?" I lift her chin and meet her with a disappointed smirk. Her eyes are pink, but tearless.

"You know that I'm honest with you, Edward. I've always worked things out on my own. If I told you I could change a life long coping mechanism over night, it would be a lie. I've been working on being more open since the minute I met you." The corner of her mouth curls up apologetically. Though I want to argue with her, I cannot.

"So, you're not mad at me, right?"

"No, Edward," she lifts from my chest, "but I'm confused by you."

"Alright folks, here we are," the cabdriver says, pulling up to Bella's apartment.

"Can you drive around a little bit, sir?" Bella asks, and then says with a trace of light-hearted sarcasm, "You see, Edward, I'm trying."

The driver pulls away from her apartment. "Confused?"

"Yes. You should have seen your face when she sent those drinks over… honestly, if you've dated her or whatever, it's fine. But then you said she didn't come onto you, she did come onto you… I just…" Bella sighs, trying to find her words. "I felt such rage, Edward."

"At me?"

"No, no, at her. Every imaginary conversation I've ever had with Lauren Mallory was right there at the tip of my tongue... and then when she laughed… _gaugh_… I could have killed her."

"Bella, I would never cheat—"

"I know, Edward," she cuts me off, still sounding frustrated. "It's not about that. It's about fighting for us. I'd go to war for you, Edward. And I won't allow a woman like that to intimidate me again—e_ver_… God, that felt so good."

"You were pretty bad-ass back there."

"Damn straight I was. Thank you for finally saying so."

_Finally? _

Bella punches me in the shoulder. "If you liked what I did, then why the hell did you get upset with me?"

_What? _

"And yell at me?"

"Yell at you?"

I think back:_ 'Bella, you shouldn't have done that… Who are you?_' Yep. I was yelling and I did sort of get upset.

"I guess it sounded like I was yelling," I admit. It's finally making sense. I see her point. "If the situation were reversed, I would have beaten the shit out of the guy."

"Of course you would have, and not because you thought I was cheating… But Edward, you have to tell me… what is it with you and that woman? Clearly, there's something between you. I mean, she is beautiful…" Bella's voice trails off into her pool of insecurity.

Honestly, I don't know what it is 'with that woman.' Something about her both repulses me and draws me. Her darkness intrigues me. Though Bella is my Eve, it is I the snake tempts with the apple… or did. I no longer think it's there, especially after tonight.

"I don't know, Bella. Maybe knowing your history, I just panicked… worried about your reaction to her, that's all." _It feels like the truth._

Bella nods, looking relieved, and rests her head back onto my chest. If I'd watched tonight through another set of eyes, my vision would be sharper. When Bella is concerned, my brain seems to have a five-minute time delay.

I slide my fingers through her hair at the back of her neck and angle Bella's head to look at me; her eyes widen when they meet my serious expression. "_This_ is why you cannot run from me, Bella. One day, while I'm trying to read you, you will run and it will be too late."

"I hear you, Edward," she says, her breath on my neck and fingers on my jaw. "Something to think about—You could read me if you weren't so afraid of what you'd see. You can't read with your eyes squeezed shut. I've told you before, my life is complicated, but my love for you is simple. You need me to stop running and I need you to have a little more faith." Bella raises her brows, waiting for her words to sink in. I want to object to her interpretation, but she has a point.

"Okay," I concede, "I'll try." She raises a brow, but her lip curls in a smile. _We're okay._ "Promise, I'll try." I hold her chin and seal my promise with a kiss.

"Another trip around the block?" the driver asks.

"No, thank you. This is fine," Bella says then turns to me with passionate eyes.  
"Come up with me?"

"What about Alice?"

"I need some time with Alice, but I want you too."

"Greedy," I say taking her lips again.

"Mmm."

When we get out of the cab, I take Bella's hand as she limps along. "I think I need to walk this off."

_We sort of argued, we talked it out, now it's better. Okay, maybe I can do this whole relationship thing. _

"How is the ankle?"

"Better, but it still hurts." We walk through the lobby one small step at a time.

"You ready to give this up yet?"

"Yep."

I sweep her up in my arms and she stretches her neck, giving me a peck on my cheek.

"Obstinate," I grumble, with a twisted smile walking with her through the lobby.

"I know. Greedy, obstinate… ripped stockings…"

I notice her scraped knees and sigh, "Isabella Swan what am I going to do with you?"

"Love me?" She aims for humor, but there is longing in those big brown eyes. _Who needs faith, Bella? _

"Always."

At her request, I place Bella down before we walk into the apartment, but her desire to downplay her fall does no good. "Honey, what happened to you?" Alice notices the mud on Bella's skirt before we get two steps in the door.

"Oh, nothing. I got my heel caught in the bricks and took a little tumble." Bella waves her hand dismissively, attempting to walk without a limp. Alice and I exchange expressions—we both know that this is Bella's way. _Don't make anyone worry. _

"Do you need an x-ray?" Jasper's voice comes in from the living room.

"Jasper, it's nice to see you." Bella skips the question. "When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago. I hope I didn't cause too much trouble getting held up tonight."

"Not at all." Bella says making her way towards her bedroom. "Excuse me, I'm going to get changed."

"I'll come with you." Alice follows.

"Hold on, shouldn't we go to the hospital?" Jasper asks, with his usual gravitas.

"No," Alice and Bella respond simultaneously.

Jasper looks at me, confused. I shake my head and half roll my eyes, letting him know I'll explain when we're alone. Maybe I should make Jasper a list of rules for living with Alice and Bella. I could help him out for a change—it's been a while.

"Bella, Alice," I lean into Bella's bedroom, "would you like us to go out and get some ice cream?"

"Thanks, Edward, that would be great." Bella's eyes glow a soft warm color. I try to let her know with my look that I understand her needs, even if it takes me a while. I once wrote on my list, '_Don't get sad when Bella and Alice need girl time. Have boy time with Jasper.'_ That time is now.

"One of us should stay, neither of them can walk."

"They're fine. We should go," I say quietly, handing Jasper his jacket, but he frowns and ignores me.

"Alice," he calls into the bedroom, "I'm going to stay in case you need someone."

_Oh, foolish friend of mine. God, protect him. _

Alice wheels herself out of the bedroom. "That's so sweet. Thank you, Jasper, but we'll be fine."

"No. I have to insist. Neither one of you is capable of…"

I laugh to myself as I go into the kitchen and hunt for some frozen peas or ice for Bella's foot. It's a small apartment, so I can't help but to hear Alice's speech about their ability to be self-sufficient in spite of their injuries. _I tried to warn him. _

Slipping past them, I go into Bella's bedroom and sit on the edge of her bed. "Poor guy," I say propping up her foot and wrapping bag of peas around her ankle with a hand towel.

"I know. The speech Alice gave you wasn't nearly this long."

"Yeah, I think she's using more words. Trying to spare his feeling… he'll learn." I wink at Bella. "In the mood for anything particular?"

"Not hungry."

"Not even for ice cream?"

"Nah. Thanks, though."

I place my palm on her cheek and brush my thumb over her bottom lip. I let it linger there, and look for something sad, but it isn't there. "Are we alright?"

"We're great." Bella turns her head and kisses my palm. "Vanilla bean."

"Is that a new term of endearment, or an ice cream selection?"

"Both." Her smile widens and turns into a yawn. "Maybe I'll be hungry by the time you get back."

"Okay," I kiss the top of her head, "be back later. Have fun with Alice."

"Love you… 'nella bean."

"Love you, too… bad ass Bella."

I leave the bedroom and save Jasper from more of his talk. Before we make it to the door, he turns and asks, "What ice cream flavor do you two like?"

I pull him through the door, shaking my head, as Alice begs me with her eyes.

"Not a problem, I'll explain… all up here," I tap my temple, reassuring her.

.

.

"She sent over drinks?"

As we walk to the store, I fill Jasper in on the evening. Of course, Dr. Perfect reacts exactly the way I probably should have. When I tell him about Bella threatening Victoria, and her 'Capable and Strong' declaration in the street, he slaps my back and laughs, "I wish I'd seen that. God, it must have been so great… seeing Bella empowered, taking charge… What did you say?"

"Me…? Well, I um… in a nutshell…" I give him recap, including my brilliant finale where I accuse Bella of assuming I would go back to Kell's to be with Victoria.

"Ouch."

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, it appears no harm has been done."

"She's pretty forgiving."

"You're forgiving too, Edward. You chose to go after her."

_Yes, I did. One of my better moves. _

Jasper reaches for a chocolate ice cream. I stop him and ask, "Do you want plain chocolate? Because this will not go over well…" The ice cream choices are my domain.

On the way home, Jasper and I compare notes on living with Alice and Bella. We usually split up into our own places and it's rare for us all to be together. Though he has most of it figured out, I'm able to teach him a few things: Ice cream flavors, _Gilmore Girls_, Alice's preference to control salad making, and as he learned tonight, always assume that together, they are able to do any and all things.

In the elevator, Jasper asks how my session went.

"It went well. He seems like a nice guy. But… I have to go back on Monday to take the MMPI, he wants a formal diagnosis," I grumble.

"Please tell me the outcome," he says trying to hide his excited grin.

"I know what you're thinking." Jasper and I play a game where we try to diagnose people. It started with diagnosing professors and classmates back in undergrad.

"No, that would be wrong," but his smile gives him away.

"Come on, go ahead, tell me what you think."

"Well, if you really don't mind… I'd say PTSD is a given…"

"Probably."

"But I think… " he cocks his head, inspecting me. "I think the test will reveal depression too."

"Depression? Get out. I'm a happy fella."

"Sometimes, but you swing. With your ups and downs, I thought you were bi-polar for a while."

"Terrific."

"Now I'm suspecting some mild depression."

"I'm so much fun."

"Don't look so disappointed, Edward. We're all a little fucked up."

.

.

.

The four of us end the night seated on their long couch, eating ice cream and watching Steven Colbert. Alice and Bella are sitting in the middle, wearing fluffy robes. All four sets of feet are on the coffee table. _Jasper's socks are much nicer than mine._

I start to feel so giddy at the picture I've been painted in to, that I almost laugh out loud. In my juvenile fantasy world, I hoped Jasper and I would marry sisters one day, and be brothers bonded by more than friendship. But my realism always led me to visions of a different future: Jasper would marry some high-maintenance model-type like Maria. We'd sneak away now and then for squash, and they'd invite me for dinner once a month, but she'd barely endure me. And now, the possibilities seem endless.

I hug my arm around Bella more tightly, and she brings a spoonful of vanilla bean ice cream from her coffee cup to my lips. I open my mouth and she feeds me. The sweet simplicity melts on my tongue, and I lick the last of the cream from my lips. "Shuffy-shuffy?" I mouth to her. She nods, blinking sleepily.

We retreat to our rooms and I strip down to my boxer briefs and t-shirt.

"Ankle?" I ask.

"Already much better."

From the bed, Bella reaches her arm out to me, "T-shirt… can I wear it?"

"Sure. Do you want one of my clean ones?"

"Nope."

I pull off my shirt and hand it to Bella. She puts it on over her camisole and brings the material to her nose, inhaling deeply.

"I love your scent," she says slipping further down into the covers.

I scoot in behind her and curl myself around her body making a tight Edward-Bella ball, and trying to warm her one icy ankle.

"You bought me a piano." I smile into her thick mass of dark hair.

"I know. And you LOVE it."

"I do. How much did it cost?"

"Ha! Not a chance." Bella starts to giggle. "Don't worry, you'd be impressed by my negotiation skills."

"I'll get you back," I say kissing her temple.

"Oh, no. This isn't a competition, baby… besides, that piano is for all three of us."

It takes a second for her words to hit me. _Three…? Alice…? She's not…_

"Bella… um… when you say _three_…"

"You know, you, me, and Teddy."

_Oh, thank God._

"You know, Edward… I sort of feel like what's mine is yours. Maybe that's wrong, we've only known each other a little over a month."

_Five weeks, to the day. _

"No, Bella. I'm there too."

"Good."

"Good night, bad ass."

"Night 'nella bean."

We start to drift into our blissful sleep when we hear it:

"_Oh, oh, Jasper!"_

Bella and I jolt up, staring at each other.

"_Ugh, Alice_."

Bella grimaces, looking repulsed, whispering, "I told you—thin walls."

It's like they are in bed with us and I'm a little grossed out, too. I should have warned Jasper about the thin walls; it's the reason Bella and I don't have sex when Alice is here.

There's a loud grunt, making us both wince then laugh.

"Should we leave?" I whisper back.

"No, it's late… music?"

I hop out of bed and grab my iPod from the pocket of my jeans. Bella docs it in her alarm clock and puts it on shuffle.

Curling back around her, I prepare to drift off to The Beatles, "Black Bird" muffling the sounds in the next room.

"Mmm… my favorite." _I take note._

I fight sleep so I can share Bella's song with her.

The song finishes and the next sound to come out of the speakers is my own voice.

Quickly, I reach my arm over her to shut it off, but she wrestles me. "Nooo. What is this?"

I groan I turn onto my back, "that's me."

"I know, but…" she listens for a moment. "Is this a sermon?"

"I was practicing my bit for the wedding tomorrow. I recorded myself a few times… Please, Bella, this is embarrassing, turn it off."

"No… no… come here," she softly encourages. I put my arms back around her and listen, burying my face in her neck. She strokes my arm, so soothing. "Edward, you sound beautiful, so sincere. You're going to be wonderful."

She lies quietly, listening to my recording: a few words about uniting together with God, and a couple of short passages. It ends with Mark 10:6-9: "…_For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and cleave to his wife; and they shall be one flesh: so then they are no more twain, but one flesh. What therefore God hath joined together, let no man put asunder._"

The iPod shuffles to a Chopin's Nocturne in E Flat Major, Op. 9 No.2, much more fitting.

"You're nervous," Bella says rather than asks, kissing the back of my hand.

"Yes."

"God will be with you. You are blessed, Edward."

Bella's gentle words and touch send me to sleep.

.

.

I'm taking Bella from behind in the condo elevator. I know it's a dream. I never want to be this rough with her in waking life. I'm pulling her hair and lifting her head so we can watch in the mirrored wall. She loves it. One minute I'm feeling myself slamming inside of her, and the next minute I'm watching from the outside—my hips are working it. So dirty. _Good dream._

I roll over and reach my hand under the covers. I'm hard as a rock. I stroke my cock and bring Bella closer to me. _So horny. We can be quiet. _

"No, I really don't want to," she says, annoyed.

I blink my eyes open and look at her face, still asleep.

"Doc, I'm not leaving Edward."

_WHAT? Leaving me?_

Bella is sleep talking, her words as clear as if she were awake, but I'm convinced I'm hearing wrong.

"I'm sure California is beautiful, that's not the point… what about Edward?"

_What about me?_

She groans through clenched teeth. _She's arguing with him in her dream. _

"Enough with the selfish talk. I'm not a selfish person, nor do I want to be."

I wait, but she says nothing else. I wait for several more minutes, frozen, propped up on my elbow, but it's only her purring.

Flopping on my back, I rub my eyes and stare at the ceiling. _What the fuck, God? Sorry. Wake her… no yes…NO! Okay, okay, hold it together Edward. This isn't a big deal. This is just a test. She asked for more faith, she deserves more faith_. I take a cleansing breath and tell myself it can wait until tomorrow… but it doesn't work…

I grab Bella's laptop and go into her dining room. _Who the fuck is this guy, anyway?_ Googling her doctor provides little information, just some physician referral site where his clients, all women, extol his virtues as God's gift to therapy. _Dick head._ For a split second, I think of reading her email, but quickly wipe that idea away.

Pacing the living room does no good. I drop to the floor and get rid of this anxiety through push-ups. _God, I need more faith… trust… patience… _With each extension of my arms, I make a request. When my requests run out, I turn to things I am grateful for. Every third or fourth push up brings me back to, _Bella… Bella… Bella…_ until exhaustion takes over.

In the bathroom, I splash cool water over my face and body, washing away the sweat. I look tired, but… I do have my mother's good looks, I admit. If, and only if, this is really a competition between Doc and me, maybe my looks can finally be of use. I flex my chest and arms, wondering if I need to get back into a lifting routine. _Nah, running, sit-ups, push-ups… it's enough. Besides, this is NOT a competition. _

I clamber back into the little bed and Bella covers me with arm and leg, finding a place for her head under my chin.

"Mmm… sweaty."

I fall back to sleep.

.

.

Bella is riding me. The cold air in the room chills my bare skin, but my shaft is hot and wet, buried in her. _Good dream._

_Wait…_

I open my eyes to see and feel Bella on top of me, smiling down.

"Morning… Alice and Jasper just left."

"Morning." My voice is husky. I hold onto Bella's legs on either side of me. She presses her hands against my stomach, and continues to grind her hips in tight circles. _So much better than a dream._

I watch as she bites her lip and finds her pleasure.

"Shirt," I say, grabbing at the hem, the rest of me coming to life.

Bella pulls off my t-shirt she's wearing and camisole, and I reach up and hold her breasts. I thrust my hips in a sloppy rhythm.

"You're so beautiful, baby," I murmur in my morning voice. That angelic face, surrounded by her halo of dark hair, gets me every time.

_Is it Christmas morning?_

"You can be loud, we're alone." Bella moans and leans over me, walking her hands to my chest and circling faster.

"How's this…?" I hold onto her leg and roll her over onto her back, and buck my hips into her, grunting a deep, loud sound.

"Mmmm… Oh, Yes!"

I lift Bella's leg higher and start long, deep strokes.

She bites my lip and fists my hair, then cries, "Yes… Ahh… Ahh… Ahh…"

I move slowly, forcefully.

"Let me…" she breathes, then hooks one leg over my shoulder and wraps the other around my waist.

I go in again slowly. So good. So deep.

"I love yoga," I say, and carefully push into her again, deeper still.

"Perfect, yes, right there, Edward… don't stop."

I continue sinking into her again and again, making sure we each feel every blessed inch of one another.

"So good… you always… make me feel so good," she smiles.

I push the tangled sheet away and Bella holds onto my backside. Each thrust brings a brief, bright widening of her eyes-a look that only I will see-and my name, "Edward, Edward, my Edward…"

I plunge again, and again, a steady assent to a perfect place. I thicken, expanding her with me, filling her.

Bella moans, and licks my bottom lip with the tip of her tongue. I take her in my mouth, crashing our bodies together in our hallowed dance that slams the bed against the wall.

_This_ is how we love. Fuck the reading, blindfolds, and costumes. _Simple._ _Instinctual._ This is when we're most connected.

Eye to eye.

Face to face.

Heart to heart.

As old as time.

As old as God.

As good as God.

Bella's body tenses. She smiles up at me as tears roll away from her eyes, racing to her ears.

"You feel it," my voice shakes.

"Love," she says, then rockets to her climax, cleaving onto me.

I dig my hands in the pillows and continue to move, taking us to a higher level. My release sears through me and I call my supplication, "_Bella_," as white-blue, warm light splashes, bathing my vision… and we fall apart, together, one flesh.

I roll us over, bringing Bella on top, and we float, catching our breath.

"Well, good morning Ms. Swan. That was some surprise."

"Mmm, glad you liked it."

I caress her smooth, warm skin as Bella trails light kisses over my shoulder.

"Ankle?"

"What ankle?"

"If we get in the shower now, we can have breakfast before I have to leave for the wedding."

"I like the sound of that."

.

.

.

I take it as a personal triumph that I don't even remember Bella's sleep talking until we are in the shower. I give myself another hearty pat on the back that I can wait until breakfast before bringing it up.

The smell of burnt toast brings me from setting the dining room table and into the kitchen. From the doorway, I watch as Bella throws out two burnt pieces, puts two slices of bread in the toaster, and then stands over the sink scrapping the charred crumbs from the other two slices.

"We have more bread, Bella," I say walking to her.

"I know… my frugal upbringing. Can't help it. Waste not, want not."

"You're so Franciscan," I say and Bella chuckles. "So, only two pieces get scraped?"

"Well, I'm not going to feed you burnt toast." _So Bella._

"Heaven forbid." I take the toast from her. "Say good-bye, Bella."

"Good-bye, Bella." She gives a little wave and I toss the toast.

_Maybe Doc is trying to get her to be more selfish, probably a good thing. _

We are halfway through breakfast when I casually say, "So, tell me about California."

She frowns for a second, then rolls her eyes, nodding as she sips her coffee. "Looks like I'm talking in my sleep again."

"Preferable to nightmares."

"I'll drink to that," she taps her coffee cup to mine and takes another swallow, seeming completely nonplussed. "Well, I wasn't going to mention it because I've pretty much decided against it. Doc is trying to get me to go to Los Altos. There's this place… this Catholic sanctuary for reflection. You know, people go for a day, a weekend, a month… whatever."

"So like a retreat. You said you always wanted to go on one."

"Yeah, I know… but." She shrugs and goes back to making a little scrambled egg sandwich with her toast.

"I say yes."

"What?"

"Yes, let's go. Let's get away, we'll make a vacation out of it."

"Oh, I love the idea of a vacation, but um… I think… well the point is…"

"I get it. You're supposed to go alone."

_I knew it, but I thought I'd try. _

"You see, Edward, it's a silent retreat. No talking. Doc thinks it would be good for me to spend some time there and get closure on a few things."

"Like?"

"Well, Renee for one." She cocks her head and says with humor, "Edward, I think I hate my mother."

"Really?"

"Yep. I never let myself believe that—how could I complain when I have such a great dad? But really… the more she disregarded me, the more I went after her love. Not on the surface, but you know, deep down I did. I've always let her keep me on a string—she loves me, doesn't love me. She even called this week to say she was coming for Thanksgiving and I know she won't. Most of me doesn't care, but it still turns the knife in my little four year old heart."

"Wow."

"Yep. Wow. And well, then there's Mike… see the pattern?" She smirks. "I need to think this through, give it a name, and give it to God."

"You're on mother hate already? What is this, therapy on steroids?"

Bella laughs, a little too hard.

"What?"

"Well, if you met Doc, you'd understand. He looks like he's on steroids."

I try not to crush the coffee cup I'm holding. "I want to meet him. Let's have him over for dinner."

"Really? I think that would be a little weird. Our relationship is purely professional."

_Good answer, Bella. _

"Is he married? Kids?"

"Nope."

_So, her therapist is some bachelor gym rat. Doesn't matter. Right God? _

"Bella, how does this sound? I think you should go. I'll stay in a near-by hotel and when you're done, we'll hang out in California for a few days."

"I love that idea… but Edward, if you are close by, the last thing I'll want to do is spend my days with my rosary. I'm sorry, but I think the point is for me to run away alone." Bella gives a small laugh, "Run, bad word choice, sorry. Anyway, you have school."

_The more I think about it the more I think she should go. God, I'll miss her, but I need to be mature about this. _

"Have you thought about your nightmares?"

"Silent retreat. I scream, they come running. Besides, I haven't had a bad nightmare in ages."

"When would you go?"

She raises her brows and hesitates. _Yes, Bella, I'm encouraging you._

"I think right after Thanksgiving. It would give you time to work on final papers and prep for exams… Oh, that reminds me, Sue and Charlie are in. Are you sure Esme and Carlisle won't mind?"

"No, they're thrilled."

_With Alice and Jasper confirmed, Thanksgiving will be everyone I love under one roof. _

Bella leans over, rubs my knee and sings, "Our parental figures are meeting."

"I know. Pretty cool."

There really isn't a single reason for her not to go… except… me.

"So… why is it you don't want to go to the retreat?"

She shrugs. "I don't need to go away. I can work out those things here."

"It's me that's holding you back, isn't it?"

Bella twists her mouth, staring at me, wondering how to respond. Finally she says, "I'd miss you."

"I'd miss you, too."

"Who will take care of you?" I'm not sure if she's teasing.

"I'll try to manage." I lean in and put my hands on her knees. "You should go."

_I want to ask if Doc is going, but decide to take the high road again. Really, I've done so well in the last twelve hours, I'm wondering why I'm even going to therapy. _

~oo0oo~

"Good morning, Edward. Come on in and have a seat. How was your week?"

"Good. Very good. Thanks, Dr. Sparrow."

"So, Edward, I have your results here."

.

.

.

* * *

Anyone want to play the diagnoisis game?

Poor Edward.

Liz x


	30. Alarm BELLS

Thank you all for reading and reviewing. It's lovely to hear from you.

Thank you to the usual suspects: **orangeapeal, ****Sunshine **(who beta'ed this), and** robsjenn, **for all they do.

* * *

Chapter Thirty  
Alarm BELLS

.

.

From the MMPI, to Beck's Depression Inventory, to The PTSD checklists, and the Bi-Polar Diagnostic Scale—Monday was a full morning of testing. It's not his fault. I forced his hand by being so tight-lipped during our first session. He had nothing to go on.

"Okay, go ahead, give it to me." I brace myself.

"Edward, there is nothing here that isn't manageable."

"Really…? Can you be more specific?"

"You're showing a high score in anxiety. More specifically, you are still suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

_Not__ surprised._ "Okay, okay… anything else?"

"Well, the only thing of note is Dysthymia—mild depression—probably related to the PTSD." Jasper is good. I think I owe him dinner or something.

"So that's the only thing… or the only thing of note?"

He laughs. "Edward, I'm not used to having clients so familiar with the tests. Is there something specific you're interested in?"

"Um… yeah, yes, there are a few things." He waits, as I go through all the fears I listed this week in my mind. "So, no Bi-polar?" He shakes his head. _Oh,__ thank __God_. I reconsider going through my full list of concerns, but he said that there was nothing else of note, and I want to leave it at that.

"I'd like to talk about the PTSD for a few minutes. Have you suffered any panic attacks?"

"Yes. I used to have them pretty frequently in the first year or two after my parents passed."

"And recently?"

"Um… how recent?"

"You tell me. The past year? Few months?"

_Fuck.__I __don__'__t __know__ what __to __tell __him.__Do __I __mention __the __times __with __Bella__—__the __couch ,__the __Valium? __Were __those__ even __panic __attacks? __No,__too__ much __back-story, __we __haven__'__t __gotten __that __far.__Wait__… _"Yes, I had one a little over a month ago."

"What were the circumstances?"

"A funeral." I close my eyes and settle back in my chair, listening to him scribble on his legal pad.

"Someone close to you died?"

"No. I was there to support a friend."

That day seems a year away. I remember sitting in the church parking lot waiting to see her—my beautiful, sad girl. Things were so different back then. _She__ was __different._

"Was that your first funeral since your parents died?"

"No. I've been to plenty… It was the music." _And __Bella._ "They had a children's choir singing Fauré's Requiem… _Pie __Jesu_…That piece, that piece… I have difficulty with that piece."

"The piece was played at your parents' funeral?"

My mind shifts from Mike's funeral to my parents.'

"Yes."

"I'm sure that funeral was traumatic for you."

"Yes." _I__ can__ tell__ this__ story__ to__ someone__ who__ really__ doesn__'__t__ care._ I open my eyes momentarily to see he's still writing. _No,__ he __doesn__'__t__ care._"The music played when we went to the front of the church to carry the caskets."

"You were a pallbearer for your parents?"

"Yes." I open my eyes to see his concern, and close them again. "There were a lot of people there to help, but it was a double funeral… so we needed several pallbearers. It wasn't in the plan. I wasn't supposed to be a pallbearer."

_It's all so clear. The music. Seeing these men lining up to carry my mom and dad, and me watching from the pew. It was painfully wrong._

"I wanted to carry my mom. So… so I went up there… but I was hurt."

"Hurt?"

"My hands were injured." _Should __I__ explain?__ Bending __my __hands __on __the__ slats __under __the __bed. __No, __it__'__s __too __much; __we __haven__'__t __gotten __that __far __yet._"You see, I just wanted to carry my mom. I wanted to do that for her… and carry her for my dad, he would have wanted that."

I open my eyes briefly to see him watching me. I wipe away silent tears with the back of my hand and continue, "So, I tried, but with my hands, I couldn't support the weight. It… she… she sort of dipped for a second. It wasn't bad. I didn't drop her, but everyone in the church made this sound, and started to whisper. I just couldn't carry her. Someone pulled me away. So I stood there. I stood there and watched other people carrying my mom and dad away from me."

Dr. Sparrow silently watches me. I try to blow this off with a shrug. "Yeah, so, that's it. I think the music set off a little panic attack."

"I see."

"And you felt…"

"You know, dizzy, tight chest, hard to breath."

"Yes. That does sound like a panic attack."

"Yes."

"How long did it last?"

"I don't know, twenty minutes maybe?"

"Do you lose a sense of time during an attack?"

"I don't know, maybe." I shift in my chair and briefly meet his intense stare. "Dr. Sparrow, can I ask you something?"

"Certainly."

"Did you get to see _Pirates __of __the __Caribbean_ this week?"

He presses his lips in a firm line for a moment then breaks into a half smile.

For the next half hour, Dr. Sparrow and I talk about the films he has ignored because he assumed they were for children, _Pirates __of __the __Caribbean_ among them. By the time we are through, I've written him a list of every kid's movie he would enjoy. He's missed some great _Pixar_ flicks.

When I see there are twenty minutes left, I ask him about his therapeutic perspective. "Are you a Cognitive Behaviorist? Family Systems? Humanist?"

"I'd say eclectic."

Dr. Sparrow smiles at me. I know what I'm doing. Avoidance is an art form. Though my hand is less steady since meeting Bella, I can still hold the brush. He knows what I'm doing, too—I think. _You __got __your __story,__Jack. __Let __me __have __my __baby __steps._

I get out of the session and read my text from Bella:

Edward,  
I have hot plans  
for date night tonight.  
Hope you're ready.  
-me x

Me,  
Do your plans  
include those panties  
with a skirt?  
-E

_I've been waiting for those. _

E-  
They include  
a thesaurus  
and sharp pencils.  
-me x

Me,  
I love how kinky  
you're getting.  
-E

Nella Bean,  
No hanky-panky  
until your applications  
are done, sir.  
-me xox

A second later, another text comes:

I'll reward you with  
a panty dance later.  
-me x

_Yes!_

Isabella Swan,  
I LOVE YOU.  
-Edward Masen

Edward Masen,  
I'm a lucky girl.  
I'll never tire of hearing it.  
You're not so bad yourself.  
Go to campus and  
say hi to Jesus for me.  
-Your love x

Bella has turned graduate school applications into a science. Between my semester crushing down on me, and her time freeing up, she does all of the legwork for both of us. I end my days to a home-cooked meals, my mail organized, and graduate school applications ready to go. Bella is leaning towards law, and I am leaning towards I have no fucking clue, but we're committed to staying in Seattle. I'm spoiled and looking forward to balancing it out when the semester is done.

~0~

"Happy Thanksgiving!" Carlisle swings open the door and welcomes us in.

"Carlisle, Esme, this is my dad, Charlie Swan and his partner, Sue Clearwater."

I look for Charlie's eye roll at the word, 'partner,' but he has a pretty good poker face.

"It's nice to meet you. Thanks for having us over," Charlie says with a firm handshake and pat on the arm. _There __are __handshakes __between __the__ men __and __hugs __for __the __women. __A __good __start._ I reach down and grab Bella's hand giving her a reassuring squeeze.

I spend pre-dinner time floating from room to room watching new relationships blossom. Jasper and Sue are on the living room couch talking about the books they are reading while football plays on the television in the background.

From the kitchen doorway, I listen in to Bella and Esme chopping vegetables and talking about Bella's mother. Bella tells Esme that Renee is, "a bit of a flake" when it comes to making family events. Esme assures Bella that she'll meet Renee someday. Bella and I meet eyes and I give her a wink. I'm rewarded by her shy smile.

I walk into the dining room and look out the window to see Charlie, Carlisle, and Alice drinking beer by the water, sitting around the turkey deep fryer. Alice is regaling them with some story that has both men laughing. _Good__ going, __Alice._ _You __are __a __gem._

"You're awfully quiet today." Sue approaches me and puts her arm around my waist. I wrap my arm around her shoulder as we take in the view of our friends and family on this beautiful day.

"Yeah. I guess I am."

"Not waiting for something bad to happen, I hope."

"Who me? Never." We both laugh. _How__ can __this __woman __know__ me __so __well?_

"So, when is the big day?"

"What big day?"

"I assume there is a proposal in your near future."

"What?" I turn to her and feign a shocked, incredulous look, but deep down, I'm doing the happiest of dances. "Sue, we just met… don't you think it's a little soon?" _Please __say __no._

She shrugs. "Too soon for… you? Bella? Who?"

"It's too soon for Bella, isn't it?" My performance shatters; I'm sincerely asking for her insight.

"Sure. It might be. You'll never know unless you ask."

"Okay, so here's what I'm thinking," I whisper, and look around to be sure we're alone. "Maybe Christmas, but then we'll have to share with Jesus' birthday, which isn't really bad, but maybe New Year's. It's a romantic day anyway, right?"

"That's true."

"And it's not like we have to get married anytime soon, I just want her to know for sure… I need her to know that I want to be with her forever and I'll wait until she figures out if she wants that too."

"I like the sound of that," Sue says in her slow, introspective way.

"Really? But not those words, right? Because I was going to look up some poetry."

"Edward, you don't need Yeats. Your honesty is poetic."

"Thanks, Sue."

"Come on, let's go help Esme in the kitchen."

Dinner goes remarkably well. There is laughing, talking, and stories about fishing. I've never seen Charlie so relaxed. In the middle of dinner, Sue invites everyone to Forks for Christmas.

"Yeah, let's do that. You all have to come. We'll… ahh… we'll have it at our house," Charlie says, astonishing Bella, who meets me with wide eyes across the table. The group joyfully accepts the invitation with raised glasses. I'm psyched to spend Christmas there—as I've told Bella, that house is so full of love, you can feel it from the front porch.

As dinner continues, I quietly watch. It is as if we are in some cheesy sitcom about a really great family and everyone plays their roles flawlessly. _It__'__s__ not __real, __is __it?_ I fall away into my own mind and fight the urge to think about the missing guests to this party—mom and dad. I ask God to remind me they are here, though I cannot feel them. _I__ want __to __feel __them._ _Have__ I__ moved __on?__ Is __that __why __they __feel __so __far? __I__ don__'__t __even __know __what __it __means__ to __move __on._

The gentle nudge of Bella's foot reaches mine from under the table. She pulls me out of my brooding with a flash of questioning eyes. Subtly, I shake my head give her a small smile. This is my favorite part of the day, my connection with Bella. A glance from the corner of the room, a brush of her hand as she walks by, and the reassuring stroking of my calf from under the table—I want this forever, but I'm sure I'll fuck it up.

"Oh, how I loves me some football," Alice says wryly, rolling her eyes, as we head into the living room to watch the game.

I smile over to her and she nods her head, gesturing to the outside.

"Up for a stroll?" I ask, reaching for her pale pink scarf hanging in the foyer.

"Sure am. I'd like to see the water again."

I take Alice to the waters edge where we watch the sunset.

"So, our girl is leaving us tomorrow," she says.

"Yeah, I know, but it's only for a few days." I feel like the grown up; but now that Alice and I are alone…

"Alice, can I ask you something…? What do you think about Doc?"

She looks up at me with a twisted smile. "Honestly? I hate him."

"Oh, thank God, me too." The damn breaks and we start to vent about the all-knowing Doc.

"There's something strange about him," she says. _Oh__ the__ relief __that __it__'__s __not __just __me._

"I know, I know. I feel it too. Alice, why is she still going to him three days a week?"

"I don't know, but I think he's trying to come between us."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you know she kept a record of how much time we spent together last week? She was writing it down in that journal of hers. One of his freaky homework assignments, no doubt."

"You're kidding me."

"No… and what's with this retreat? I can see her in some cold convent with a bunch of nuns." Alice shudders.

"Well, the Catholic thing was Bella's idea. He wanted her to go on the retreat, she chose the Catholic one. I did some research. It's a nice place, we don't have to worry about that."

"You see? I would know that if she talked to me."

_Am __I __next?_ I pull at my hair and begin to pace. "She should go to someone else. He's all wrong for her."

"Agreed."

"Should I tell her or you? Should we do it together?"

"Please tell me you two aren't discussing what I think you are." I turn and see Jasper. _When__ did __he __get __here?_ He shakes his head—a hard edge in his expression.

Alice looks mortified, but I'm not willing to give this up. "Jasper, I'm sorry, but this guy is a douche. How well do you know him anyway?"

"A _douche_? Really, Edward? A douche?"

_Alright, __wrong __word __choice._"You know what I mean."

Jasper tilts his head back and forth, contemplating. "Listen, I understand that some of his methods are… well, they aren't necessarily techniques I would use. But…" his voice turns cool, "have you noticed _Bella_ in all of this…? She's eating. Laughing. Speaking her mind. She's happy, for Christ's sake."

_He __speaks __the __truth._

"Edward, how is her sleeping?"

"Good," I say quietly, realizing my selfishness.

"Nightmares?" He's scolding me.

I shake my head and see my shame reflected in Alice's eyes.

"Well then…? I don't know him personally, but from what I can see, his reputation is earned."

Jasper takes a deep breath, calming his temper. He places a hand on Alice's shoulder, her head bowed, and I walk away while they whisper their apologies.

He's right, we're wrong. _Dear __Lord,__when __did__ I__ become __so__ selfish?_

We walk back to the house and I find Bella alone in the kitchen uncovering the pumpkin pie and apple cake she made. I wrap my arms around her and she leans back against my chest.

"Nice walk?"

"Yes," I murmur into her hair. She tilts her head, and I brush my lips down her neck, inhaling her clean scent.

"It's been a great day, hasn't it?" She covers my arms with hers.

"Mmmm-hmm."

"Everyone got along so well. We have so many great people who care for us, you know? We're lucky. Really lucky."

"It makes me happy to see you so happy, Bella." She turns in my arms and places her hands around my neck, her warm brown eyes, soft with gratitude.

"That means so much to me, Edward. Thank you." _I__ guess __I __should __have __said __that __sooner._

"You look so pretty today. Did I tell you that?"

She smiles. "You always tell me that. Always." She strokes the nape of my neck.

"Bella, am I everything you want me to be?"

Bella tilts her head and frowns. "Hey, where is this coming from…? You are more than I could ever imagine, Edward."

"I'm going to miss you."

"I know, me too. Hey, will you play for me tonight? I just realized I won't hear you play for a while."

"I can call and play for you over the phone." She smiles at my attempt. We've been through this.

"No calling, silent retreat," she pouts. "But a text every night, right?"

"Right."

"Whoa, sorry." Charlie enters the kitchen and promptly leaves when he sees our embrace.

"Come back, Dad."

Bella and I break our hold and carry out the desserts, finishing Thanksgiving with her amazing cooking.

Carlisle and Esme walk us out to our cars. I'm the last to say good-bye to them. I hug each of them, in turn. Looking back to Bella sitting in the car, I realize that, for years, Carlisle and Esme protected my heart so that someday Bella could come along and open it.

"Thank you for everything," I say. I hope someday I'll feel those words are enough.

~0~

"Please, Bella… one more time." I bite her ear lobe. We are a tangled, sweaty mess covered in the scent of sex. A long night of love making and I'm still not sated.

"I can't," she laughs and tries to sit up, but I throw my arm around her middle, pull her back down, and position myself between her legs. Her groan melts into a laugh.

"Can't or won't?" I press my pelvis on top of hers, and begin to harden again.

"Both… My gosh. Look at the time. I'm already late." She tries to squirm out from under me, but I pin her arms above her head.

I bite her chin, her neck. She tilts her head, and I lick her throat. _She __wants __this, __too._ "Take a later flight." Releasing her hands, I reach down and rub my swollen head over her sex.

"Edward," she's frustrated, but aroused, "I can't… they're expecting me."

"Skip your therapy appointment." I swirl my tongue in her ear, and slip my fingers inside of her. _She__'__s __ready._

"Can't. _Oh__… __Oooh._ Need to get my head on straight before I go."

"I can help you get your head on straight."

Her breath quickens as she continues her slow climb.

"I want you for other things," she says, her smile widening.

"Like this?" I close my lips around her nipple and Bella whips her head side to side on her pillow.

"You are relentless!"

"You love that about me."

"Why are you doing this?" She's still smiling, so I don't give up.

"It's fun… and I want to watch you come again." I find her sweet spot and her mouth drops in pleasure. "Come on, Bella. You're already so close…" After a few seconds, I halt my fingers, stopping her assent.

"Oh please, Edward…" she whimpers.

"Should I stop?"

"No… maybe…"

I know it's evil, but I go to a place she can't resist. I withdraw my fingers and lift to my knees. Lightly brushing my fingertips over her pubic hair, I start slowly stroking my throbbing erection above her stomach.

"Should I stop, Isabella? Or do you want to come on my fingers?" She moans and tries to writhe against my hand before I pull it away. "Do you want to come on my fingers, or this?" I love working her up into frenzy this way. She's panting, pink, sweating. "Do you want to come with me inside of you? Or should I stop…?"

"Bastard," she says with a million emotions across her face.

"My cock is so hard, Bella."

She reaches for me and I snatch her wrists, holding them with one hand.

"And you call yourself a Christian?" she laughs.

"Low blow, Swan." I smile. It's permission to keep going.

"Should I fuck you with my hard cock?"

"Oh, God, yes."

"Ask me."

"Wicked." She tries to free her hands, but it's no use.

"Beg me. Use the word."

"Please… please, Edward, fuck me."

~0~

Maybe I shouldn't have done that. We're late. Bella is a frazzled mess in the car on the way to her appointment.

"Shoot, shoot, shoot," she says, turning to look in the back seat. "I can't find the applications."

"It's okay, I have them. I'll go to the post office while you're in your session." I hope to undo the mood I created and keep a soothing voice.

She digs into her bag, pulling out her journal, and searching for something. I loathe that she brings her journal to him.

"What do you need, Bella?"

"I forgot my rosary."

"I have it. I put it in your suitcase, front pocket."

She slumps with relief. "Thank you."

"Anything you forgot, you can either buy or I'll overnight it. Okay?" I press my palm to her knee and step on the gas.

"Okay."

As I pull up to the office I give a quick, "I'm sorry about this morning."

"It's not your fault you're so darn irresistible. Well, maybe it is." She gives me a peck and hops out. _Forgiveness._

During Bella's appointment, I run some errands: the applications go off in the mail, coffee for both of us, and I call to have flowers sent to Bella's room at the retreat.

For the first time, I find parking right in front of Doc's office. I wait for a few minutes and ask for God's advice. _Should __I __go __up?_ _No __I __shouldn__'__t__… __don__'__t __do __it, __Edward._ Oh, what's the harm? It's not like I'd meet him. I'm just showing Bella how much I care. Yes, she'll love that I meet her at the office.

A woman greets me at the reception desk behind sliding glass. She's well dressed, and professional in appearance.

"Hello. Do you have an appointment?"

"Um, no. I'm here to pick up Bella Swan."

"Great. I think they're almost done. Why don't you have a seat?"

I'm the only one in the waiting room. The furniture is not as high-end as Jasper's office, but several steps above Sparrow's. The artwork is impressive. Original, bright, abstract oil paintings that say, 'Explore your feelings. Be happy.'

Approaching voices reach out to me from behind the door—definitely Bella, and… a man's voice, deep. _I__'__m __going __to__ see __him._ I hear them laughing. _He__ makes __her __laugh?_ I tense-every muscle hardens. They're almost at the door .

"Alright, Bells, keep me posted."

_BELLS! A motherfucking nickname?_

The door swings opens. He holds it for her as they walk through.

He's fucking huge. Bella is a peanut next to this guy.

"Hello, Isabella." I pitch my voice low, stand, and approach.

"Edward, what a surprise." Her face brightens. _S__he__'__s __happy __to __see __me._

"I brought you coffee." I hand it to her but lock my stare on him.

"Aww. You're so sweet."

"Doc, I'd like you to meet Edward."

He offers his hand and puffs out his chest—_I__ think. _Hard to tell with a chest that big.

"Hello, Doc." I take his hand, web to web, and maybe squeeze a little too hard, he crushes mine back, but keeps an effortless smile on his chiseled face.

"Edward, nice to meet you. You can call me Jacob."

I feel Bella's hand on my back and I break our handshake. My teeth hurt from my clenched jaw. He's taller than I am by about an inch. Looking up into people's eyes is new for me, and I don't like it. He's young, maybe 30, and good looking by anyone's standards—darker than me. Dark hair, dark eyes. Not the Charlie type I envisioned. _I__ hoped__ for._

His smile is bright white and condescending. "Sounds like Bella is in a rush for the airport."

_What does that mean? Did she tell him about this morning? _

I can hear my own breathing through my nose. "Yeah. I guess so. We should go, Bella." I give a curt nod, "Jacob," and clutch Bella's hand like it's a prized possession, because really, it is. Fighting the urge to move swiftly, I give one last stare that says, "I'm on to you, Fucker," before heading out.

I try to keep calm the whole way to the airport. I use terms like 'honey' and 'babe,' words I never use which raise more suspicion. I'm ripped apart wanting two things at once: Bella to be gone so I can freak out in private, and taking her to some remote place where our bubble of love is protected from all others. _Fuck__ school_. We should get on a plane right now and go to Europe. I should have followed my instincts our first morning together and flown to Vegas to marry her.

"Edward, you're driving really fast. Be careful, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know… I just don't want you to miss your plane, sweetheart." _Fuck.__ She__ doesn__'__t __like __sweetheart__—__she __told __me __that __once._

"I think we'll be okay. I can just jump out at the ticket counter."

"Oh, no. I'm walking you to the gate. I'm taking you as far at they let me, darling." _Fuck._ "Love, I'm taking you as far as they let me, _love_." _I __will __be __the __best __boyfriend __in __the __history __of __boyfriends. __It__'__s __survival __of __the __fittest. __Pick __me,__ Bella. __Propagate__ the__ species __with __the __best __mate._

I decide to throw it out there. "Hey, Bella, here's an idea. How about we forget the retreat and take the next plane to Europe. We'll go to Italy—Assisi. How does that sound…? Just me and you… and … and Italy… and Catholics." _I __sound__ like __a__ freak._

"Italy sounds incredible. Let's definitely go… sometime. But now's probably not the best time, you know? But truly," I glance to see her hand over her heart, "I love how romantic you are."

"Right, right."

We drive the rest of the way mostly in silence, though I try to make casual conversation about the good weather in California. I pull into short term parking at Sea-Tac and grab the door handle, but Bella stops me.

"Edward, look at me."

I turn to her and scan her face, fearing what she'll see if my eyes land on hers.

"Oh, wow," she breaths and slumps against the door. "I shouldn't go, should I?"

"What do you mean? Of course you should go. I'm just, you know… going to miss you, but I'll be fine." I force a laugh. "I'm a big boy, Bella. It's all good." _Please __don__'__t __go._

"Is that why he's here? Because I'm leaving?"

_I__ can__'__t __hide __Teddy __from__ her,__ as__ much__ as __I __try. __What __do __I__ say?__' __I__'__m__ afraid __your __therapist __will __come__ between __us?__' _I close my eyes and send a brief plea to God—shield her from my selfishness, my insecurity—let me be the best of myself. When I open my eyes, I feel like myself again.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I had a momentary freak out. Please don't worry about me. I'm fine. Okay?"

She nods, and gives a half smile. I put my hand through her thick hair at the back of her head and say, "Enjoy the sunshine, relax, find peace, tell Jesus I said hi, okay?"

"Kay."

I take her as far as the security check in and we depart with an unremarkable hug and kiss.

"See you soon. I'll text tonight," she says.

"Alright. Have fun."

"Bye."

"Bye."

As I walk away, I turn back once to see she's watching me. We each give a little wave. I continue to walk and turn once more, but she's already gone.

Back in the car, I take my things to do list out of the glove box, and make two additions:

-Go to the gym

_I definitely need to run some of this off, and maybe I'll start lifting again._

-Design Bella's ring

I end my night accompanied by pizza, beer, and sore muscles. Surprised by my sense of peace, I walk into my office closet and take two large boxes from the shelf, carry them into the living room, and put my feet up on the coffee table.

Photo albums. It is the first time I can remember looking through these. I feel nostalgic, but not pained. I chuckle at my gawkiness, a string bean in a baseball uniform, at nearly every stage of my life. Birthday parties and family vacations—the beach, Mom's freckles coming out in the sun. She shies away from my father's lens, but he captured her so well. My father's lean build as he throws me, around age four, into the air.

I end with the large white and silver bound wedding album. _My__ God, __they __look __happy. _All of the traditional photos are here: Grandma, who died before I was born, placing the veil on my mom before the ceremony. My father, nervously waiting at the front of the church. The first dance, cheek-to-cheek. The gentle feeding of wedding cake to one another. And here it is, the one I've been looking for—their hands placed atop one another—_my__ mom__'__s __ring._

Though my mom was buried with this ring, I'll replicate it. I will put it on Bella, and make her my wife.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

So "Doc" is Jacob. How about that?

Are any of you going to the LA Twi-Convention or the premiere camp out? Let me know. I'll be there.

Love to know what you think.

Liz x


	31. Crazy Train

Dear Friends,

The response to the last review made my heart soar. It was wonderful to hear from so many of you and your thoughts regarding Jacob. My only regret is that, with my travels to LA, I could not respond to every review. Please know that each one is treasure.

**Important ****Notice:** A friend of mine in the fandom, Tammi (aka PattzStewGlobal) lost her son in a tragic car accident last week. There is an effort to raise funds to help her with funeral costs. I have donated the next outtake for Jasper x Alice to the effort. It is not a big collection of stories, just my one outtake and some merchandise for auction. If you could spare a few dollars to help her through this sad event, it would mean a lot to me. I will email the outtake by December 15th.

More details can be found here: http:/welcome-to-the-rileys-saturday(dot)blogspot(dot)com/2011/10/auction-to-raise-funds-for(dot)html 

Use a dot in the places it says.

I have four pre- readers, yes four, to thank for their help getting this chapter where I want it: **orangeapeal, ****Sunshine**(who also beta'ed this),** robsjenn, **and **ellie~iris**

**Warning: Please put on your angst invisibility cloaks. **

**.**

**.**

**.**

**.**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-one  
Crazy Train

.

.

"Hi Dr. Sparrow."

"Come on in, Edward. I'm glad you rescheduled. What did you have on Friday…? Took a friend to the airport?"

"Yes. I did."

I sit down in my usual chair. Initially I canceled the appointment, but decided to reschedule. After meeting Dr. Jacob Thick-neck, I thought I'd get another's perspective.

Dr. Sparrow takes out my folder and looks over his notes through his bifocals. He's wearing a red-checked shirt and an old tan corduroy blazer. I wonder if I'll be like him someday—a wife who argues with me about movies, a wardrobe built for comfort, a simple practice. Nothing fancy, just pleasant. It sounds really good right now.

He closes his folder and takes off his glasses, resting his face in his hand propped up on the armrest. His fist pushes his fleshy cheek around his twinkling eyes. "How was Thanksgiving, Edward?"

"It was good. Thanks. Yours?"

"Terrific. House filled with young grandchildren. My oldest has three boys all under five years old."

"Really? That sounds great. Looks like those kids movies will come in handy."

His laugh comes from his belly. _He __really __is __a__ nice __guy._

"How about you? Where did you spend Thanksgiving?"

"Oh, I spent it with Carlisle and Esme. They're the two people—"

"They took you in after your parents passed," he interjects. He remembers. He is paying attention. "That's nice that you're still close with them. Carlisle is your mentor at the seminary, isn't he?"

"Yes."

"And you don't have any other family, right?"

"No. Not really. Well, I have my friend Jasper. He was my college roommate."

"The psychologist. The one who recommended me?"

I stare at him for a moment, then nod. He does pay more attention than I thought.

"So why don't you tell me a little about them. Carlisle, Esme, Jasper."

I shrug. "They're, you know… great. Great people." Nerves take over. He's leading the session and I don't like it—that's not why I'm here.

"Dr. Sparrow, can we talk about professional ethics for a minute?"

"Sure," he says suspiciously.

"Not your ethics-It's someone else. Another psychologist."

"Your friend Jasper?"

"No, absolutely not. He's ethical to a fault, if that's possible." I smile weakly. "A friend of mine is seeing someone, and the doctor… I think the doctor might have romantic feelings for her."

"Really?" His brows raise and his voice drops.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't know for sure, but I think there's a good possibility. What do you think about that…? It would be egregious for a therapist to make advances on a client, right?"

"Yes. It would be grounds for censure, possibly more depending on the circumstances."

"Okay," I lean back in my chair feeling a little more confident. In what, I don't know.

"Does your friend want to file a complaint?"

"Ahh, I don't think we're there yet."

"Can you share with me the sorts of things he's said and done?"

Dr. Sparrow takes out a separate legal pad; his pen at the ready. _Shit.__ How__ do __I __explain?_

"Well, I'm not even sure if my friend realizes what's happening. You know?"

"Hm. Tell me more."

"Well, he shook my hand really hard. He gave me this look… this… 'I'm the man' sort of look."

"I see." Sparrow's expression is impassive. The way he looks when I start talking crazy. _I __should __not __have __opened __this __door._

"Here's the thing, Dr. Sparrow, maybe it isn't him. Maybe it's her falling for him."

"That's fairly common." _Oh,__Lord._ "Patients, clients, well you probably know, even parishioners…"

He keeps talking, but it isn't anything I don't already know. _We__'__ve __been __here __before_. The day I first met Bella, Carlisle and I talked about her feelings for me in the hospital. _Maybe Bella fell in love with me because I helped her, and now she has Doc…_

"Edward, what are you thinking?"

"Nothing." _I__'__m __over __thinking__ this._ _Bella __loves __me__—__end __of __story. __I__ will __not __let __my__ angry__ sixteen-year-old __get __a __hold __of __this; __twist __it __with __his __jealous__ fear. __Bella__'__s__ name__ for __him,__Teddy,__makes __him__ sound __benign. __He__'__s __anything __but._

"Edward, is this female friend of yours, is it your girlfriend?"

I drag my hands down my face and look at him. I really didn't want to get into my current life, not this soon.

"Yes, she is."

"You mentioned you had a girlfriend, but we haven't talked about her. What's her name?"

"Bella. Bella Swan."

I watch him write her name on his legal pad. I've come here ill prepared. No plan to divert his attention. Agitated, I stand and start to pace.

"It looks like Bella Swan is an anxiety trigger for you."

"No, she's not. Just the opposite. She calms me."

"You don't look calm."

I laugh and pull at my hair, moving about his office. _Good __point,__Jack._

"Does Bella ask a lot of you?"

The question surprises me. This whole conversation catches me off guard.

"No. She asks nothing of me. Not a single thing."

"Then what's going on here, Edward?"

"I don't want to… I'm not ready to talk about some of this." I grab my jacket. "I think I should go. I'll see you on Friday."

"Edward, sit down. Give me five minutes."

I nod and have a seat.

"I know you don't want to be here. So tell me, do you want to continue suffering from PTSD?"

As annoyed as I am by the question, it is a fair one. "No."

"Okay. I know you want to go slowly, but we have to start somewhere, right?"

"Yes."

"We need to talk about your traumatic events, your triggers, how they affect your relationships."

"Okay."

"So, where do you want to start?

I give this some consideration. "How about we start with coming to Seattle. We'll go chronologically. I feel like there's a lot to tell."

"That sounds fine."

I tell him about our move here, that Esme was my father's real estate agent and, once here, she joined him in building our company. Now she and I own the company, but I'm more of a silent partner these days. The story takes most of the hour and we decide to end it there.

"Edward, unless something else in your current life is pressing, I think we should talk about your parents murder on Friday. It's time, don't you think?"

"Sure. Okay, Dr. Sparrow."

~o~

Plane just landed.  
Be there in a sec.  
-me x

I stand at the bottom of the escalator in baggage claim, waiting for her and cursing 9-11 terrorists for, among other things, robbing me of the opportunity to meet her at the gate.

I look over the texts from the last few days:

E-

Just got here.  
Flowers?  
ILY!  
Have to go.  
Text later.  
-me x

Me-  
I'll be waiting  
E-

Strange day.  
People are intense.  
-me x

Bella,  
Are you okay?  
Do you want me  
to get you?

No. Thank you.  
I think I should stay.  
They want me to  
give up my phone but I  
can't do it.  
Don't know what  
to say.

B,  
'Fuck you. I'm keeping  
my phone.'  
That's what you say.

E,  
Good point. Nuns  
love cursing.  
Give me one  
more day.  
If I feel like this  
tomorrow, I'll  
come home.  
How are YOU?  
-me x

Love,  
I'm good.  
No shame in  
coming home.

Edward,  
You've made me feel  
better already.  
I'll text same  
time tomorrow.  
I love you.  
-me x

From then on, the texts became simpler:

Edward,  
A better day.  
I feel at peace.  
-me x

Edward,  
Being here helps  
me understand  
what you mean to  
me.

Edward,  
One more  
day and we'll  
be together.

Edward,  
Can you believe  
I'll miss this place?

I see Bella turn the corner at the top of the escalator. I give a big goofy wave hello above my head and she quickly works her way between people to get to me. Even in jeans and a hoodie, my girl looks great. Bella leaps into my arms and I spin her around, smiling into her hair. _Oh,__her__ scent_—clean.

When I place her down on her feet, she beams up at me. The energy from her smile could fuel a plane.

I take her bag and grab her hand. "Where to? The apartment? Condo? I made dinner reservations for tonight, or we could stay in. Movie? Whatever you want, Bella. The day is ours."

"The condo sounds good. Big bath. Big bed."

"The condo it is."

We swing our hands between us as we exit the airport, my face splitting into a huge grin.

We get into the car. "Tell me everything. I want to hear all about it."

Her smile is still cemented on her face. "I spent the flight trying to figure out how to describe it… but I don't think I have words. It was really good. I'm… relaxed?"

"You look relaxed."

While we drive away, Bella reaches in her purse for her phone and starts to text.

"Texting Alice? Charlie?"

"No... I'm texting Doc," she says, distracted.

My grip tightens around the steering wheel.

"You text Doc?"

"Not usually, just for the retreat. I thought I told you. No?"

_She texted Doc? _

"No. You didn't."

"Oh… He wanted me to come in today. I'm just texting to cancel." She rubs my arm. "The day is ours, love."

_Good answer, Bella. _

"Be sure to text Alice, too."

"I will. How is she?"

"Great. She stood up in PT yesterday. Took her first step."

Bella looks at me with wide brown eyes. "Aww. My baby walked while I was gone? I missed a milestone?"

"Yeah. Sorry you missed it. But I know she'd love to see you. Maybe you two can get together tomorrow."

Bella gives me a disbelieving sideways glance. "I was hoping to."

While Bella was away, Alice and I formed an alliance to keep Bella, well… Bella. I have to work on being less obvious about it.

~0~

A day goes by… and another. Bella is quiet, serene. It must be the retreat. It's a rainy Thursday afternoon. Jasper and Alice will come home for dinner later. For now, Bella and I are in her apartment, silently reading—Bella on the couch with a romance novel and me in the chair, reading Keith Richard's autobiography, _Life._

I love watching her read. Engrossed in her book, Bella bites her bottom lip as she turns the page. A white v-neck t-shirt, old worn jeans, and hospital socks never looked so good. I want to run my hand down those jeans and see if they're as soft as they look. _Do __we__ have __time?_

"How's the book?" I ask.

"Good. Smutty. Yours?"

"Good. Smutty." She laughs and goes back to reading. "I was thinking, Bella, this weekend is our two month anniversary." She looks up again and grins cautiously. "I mean… depending on how we figure it. Eight weeks or we can go by the date."

"Yes. I know."

"So, should we do something special?"

"Yeah, maybe." She purses her lips and gives me her full attention. "You know, Edward, it's sort of a complicated anniversary for me."

"Yeah, I know. I get it." I bring my focus back to my book.

"That's not fair to you, I know. I'm just trying to be honest with you." Her tone is careful.

"No. It's okay. We can celebrate other things… other times." I fight petulance, keeping my face on the page.

"I was actually thinking about going to Forks for a night."

I look up. "Okay. Let's go to Forks. Let's see Charlie." I love that little house of theirs, and it gives me an excuse to get out of therapy tomorrow. Talk about my parents? I'm not ready.

"Why don't we go first thing in the morning, Bella? Let's play hooky from our appointments and go to Forks."

Bella puts a bookmark in the page and closes her novel. "I thought with final exams next week, I'd go alone. You know, give you time to study."

_Oh._ "I don't need more time to study. You just got back and you're leaving again?"

"You're right. It was a bad idea. If you don't need time to study… forget it. Why don't we go ahead and celebrate?"

"What's going on, Bella?"

I try to stay calm, but I feel the panic rising.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean… Don't you want to spend time with me? Have we reached some two-month mark where we grow apart or something…? Or would you rather talk to someone other than me?"

"What?" She puts the book on the coffee table and turns to me. "No, Edward. I don't want to talk to someone other than you and I love spending time with you."

Bella sits on the edge of the couch and plays with her rings, a nervous habit I haven't seen in a while. _Where __is__ this __going?_

"Edward, I've been working on some things and maybe I'm going about it wrong."

_This isn't good… this is bad, very bad. _

"Edward, you know how much I love you. You are simply the most amazing man I've ever met…

_Oh, Jesus._

"But I'm learning how not to rely on you… to _need_ you. I should have told you this. I didn't think you would have noticed."

The blood drains away from my head. "You don't need me?"

I repeat it again in my head. I look down at my balled fists, the scars across my knuckles turning white.

Bella leans in and speaks slowly. "I want you… more than anything I _want_ you, but I'm trying not to _need_ you."

_My God, is she breaking up with me? But I was going to ask you to marry me. _

"Do you know what I mean, Edward?"

I toss my book on the table and head into the kitchen. "No. I don't know what you mean." I grab a beer from the fridge and throw the cap in the sink. She follows behind.

"Bella, I need you. I want you. I love you. I don't see the difference. It's all the same to me."

She presses her palms to her forehead. "I shouldn't have said anything. I'm not explaining myself well. Let's just forget it, okay?"

"No, let's not forget it. Explain it to me, Bella. Please, enlighten me. I thought things were going well." I take a long swallow of beer.

"They _are_ going well." Bella clutches her chest, "How do I explain this…? Edward, _you__ saved __my __life._ I wouldn't be standing her if it weren't for you. And now I'm trying to stay standing on my own two feet."

"This is why you went to the retreat, isn't it? Is this you talking, Bella, or is this _Doc_?"

"Honestly, Edward, I don't know why you hate him so much."

_I thought I kept that a secret._

Bella exits the kitchen and I follow her into the dining room. Quickly, she gathers the mail—catalogues and magazines—into piles.

"He's… inappropriate, Bella. I think his feelings for you are…" Her exasperated sigh cuts me off. She drops her pile.

"All he is trying to do is piece me back together _for__ you_, Edward. Not just for me, but _for__ you_. Because you deserve a healthy woman. _We_ deserve a future. _We_ deserve a relationship where we can support each other. I want to be strong _for __you_."

"I don't need you to be strong for me."

"Yes you do, Edward. That's how relationships work."

"No they don't. My father was never weak."

"Yes he was. If he was human, he had his moments of weakness. You have this beautiful, shiny halo around him. And I get that. He's gone and perfect in your memory… Please, let's talk about this. Let's talk about your parents."

"No, let's not talk about my parents. You have Doc to put you together, you don't need me anymore, there's really nothing else to talk about."

"Please don't say that. You're getting me all wrong. Let's stop right now. I need to think through this, please."

"You're changing, Bella. I'm not sure I how I fit in your life anymore."

"I'm the same person… I'm just… my God." Her hand covers her open mouth. "You liked me better when I was a mess—sick, and sad… the nightmares. You liked me better like that."

"That's not true. It killed me to see you tortured."

"Jacob warned me of this, but I didn't believe him," she says almost to herself.

"Jacob? You mean Doc, don't you Bella? Or are you on a first name basis now?"

She looks dazed.

_Are you fucking him, Bella? _

"How dare you," she whispers, chilling me.

"What?"

"I know exactly what you are thinking. I always know. As much as you try to hide things from me, what you are thinking is written all over your face." Her fury simmers under the surface.

"Name one other thing I've hidden from you, Bella. Just one."

"No. No, let's stop this right now. We're already hurting each other. One of us is going to say something we'll regret. I think you should go, Edward. Let's take a break. We'll talk tomorrow."

I laugh, it's an evil sound, but I can't help myself. "I'm not leaving and you can't run. We're getting this out right now. What is it you want to know Bella?"

"Please, Edward… this isn't you anymore. I think Teddy is here."

"I hate when you call me Teddy. It's so condescending," I lie through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry. I never meant it that way. I promise, I'll never say it again." There's a sharp pain at the realization she never will.

"Come on, Bella. What is it that you want to know?" I can no longer tell if I sound calm or cold, probably both.

"Please, Edward, let's not do this."

"Tell me."

Bella straightens up and looks me dead in the eye, a new resolve in her expression. "Isn't there something you've been meaning to tell me, Edward…? A purchase?"

I scan my memory. I don't know what she means.

"You bought my condo, Edward, for twice the asking price. You bought my condo and never told me."

_I __forgot._ The air leaves my body and I fall against the dining room wall for support. _What __do __I __say?_

"How did you find out? Who told you…? Alice? Jasper?"

"They know?" She blanches and slumps down in a dining room chair dropping her head in her hands. "Good going, Bella," she says under her breath, "you're the last to know again. You fool."

There is silence for a long moment and I try to think of how to get out of this, but I have nothing.

Bella glances at me, and then walks into her bedroom. She returns with an envelope in her hand. She slides across the dining room table. It spins in front of me. The envelope is addressed to me, at the new condo's address. Then forwarded to my parents' company, _my__company,_then forwarded to my condo. _They__'__re__ fucking__ with __me.__The __people __at__ the __office __are __fucking __with __me __again._

"When did this get delivered?"

She laughs and shakes her head.

"Bella, this never should have come to my condo. It's a mistake."

"It came last week, before the retreat. I found it when I got the mail." She shrugs, defeated. "I didn't know how to bring it up. I hoped you would tell me yourself."

I go into the kitchen and grab another beer. Several longs swallows do little to extinguish the fire that is spreading throughout me.

"So, that's what this is about, Bella? You're pissed that I bought your condo?"

I hear Bella walk in behind me as I continue to drink and stare at the backsplash behind the sink.

"No. I'm in awe that you bought my condo… and confused. It scares me that I know so little about you—that you try to hide so much from me."

"I don't hide things from you. I protect you."

"From what?"

_My sadness, my anger._

I turn to her. "From me, my past, from everything that goes on in my head. You think you know, but you have no fucking idea."

"No, maybe I don't," she murmurs.

"You have no idea what it's like to lose your parents at sixteen and to inherit a ridiculous insurance policy and a multi-million dollar company. _At __Sixteen, __Bella!_"

She shakes her head; the sympathy in her eyes is sickening. _She __wants __to __know __who __I __am,__ I__'__ll __tell __her..._The train to crazy takes off and I can't help myself.

"You have no idea what it's like to spend your eighteenth birthday in a board room with a bunch of people using a loop hole to buy you out—to take the company. And I wanted them to take it, Bella. I prayed for that to happen. I would have given it to them. But Esme wouldn't allow it. They couldn't do it without her shares. She pleaded with me, 'Edward, you're parents wanted you to have the company. They'll destroy it. I'll help you.'"

I scoff, "Like I wasn't already indebted to her enough."

"I'm sorry." I barely hear her.

"I'm not just wealthy, Bella. I am sodden with wealth." I have so much anger and nowhere to put it, so I throw it at her… _Lord, __help __me._ "And you… you…"

"What about me?" She shrinks into the corner of the kitchen.

I slam down my beer and lean in, scraping my fingers against my temple. "You are so fucked in the head about money, you've imprisoned me." I lean back and spread my arms, "Finally, I have use for my money… but you and your Franciscan ways…"

"_I_ am not fucked in the head about money, Edward! _You_ are the one who hates it, fears it."

It's blood in the water. She wants to fight—I'll fight.

"Oh really, Bella? How many times have I offered to buy you a car?"

"You weren't serious," her voice weakens and she escapes into the living room, but I follow, my fighting instincts taking over.

"How many times have I begged you to go on vacation?"

"Slow down, Edward. Take a breath."

I must look crazed, but I push forward, yelling, "How about Europe, Bella? Huh? How many times have I begged…? Do you know how badly I want to buy you and Charlie a real house?"

Bella gasps. The shock, the hurt in her face yanks me out of my tirade. I close my eyes and cover my face with my hands. _Dear__ Lord, __what __did__ I __just __say? __I __have __to__ get __out__ of __this__… __make __it __stop. __How __can __I __begin __to __apologize?_

"Bella, I…"

"Get out."

Weakly, I start again. "Bella… I don't know where that came from… I love that house… My anger, sometimes I can't control…"

"Get out, Edward."

"Okay, yeah." I put on my leather jacket, curling in on myself, and praying I can fix this.

"Um, like you said… we'll spend tonight alone and get together tomorrow."

"I'm not too sure I want to see you tomorrow."

_No,__no,__no,__no__… __I__'__ve__ gone __too __far._Struggling to find a new approach, I take a step towards her and place my hand on her shoulder_._"Yes you will, Bella." I hold my breath as I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. "I'll come over in the morning."

She groans and hits my hand away. "You're infuriating! How about I tell you when I want to see you?"

I go from zero to 60 in no time. I'm cornered and come out swinging. "Fine, Bella. You tell me when you want me… is it need or want? I forget."

"You're only making this worse, you know."

I loathe the sound of my own voice, the viciousness that has taken over, but I just can't stop. "Tell you what, Bella…"

"Edward, what are you doing?"

"I'm setting the alarm on my watch," my fingers shake as I push the small buttons, "because I think you _do_ need me. I bet you won't last five minutes. No, we'll make it ten. You won't last ten minutes without me." _I__ won__'__t __last __ten __minutes __without __you._

"You don't believe that."

_No, I don't._

"Yes. I do." _I __have __no __idea __what __has__ taken __hold __of __me._

"Edward, look at me," there's a quiver in her voice. With great strength, I raise my eyes to her.

Bella's hands are clasped in prayer. "Edward Masen, my love… p-please don't do this. I am begging you. If you test me in this way, if you wait to see how long before I call, I will win and we will both lose."

Silence is a curious thing. As I stand here waiting for something to happen, for God's voice, for Bella to fall to her knees, cry, and declare her need for me… nothing really happens. Just imagined sounds of the Earth's rotation. Houseplants decaying. Molecules splitting. And the rain hitting the window. Only the rain is real.

_I need you to need me, Bella. It's the only thing I know. _

I hold up my wrist to show her the watch, "Ball's in your court. Call me when you need me," and I leave.

~000~

BPOV:

I watch him turn his back on me and walk out the door.

_No. This is not happening… _

_Wait… this is okay, Bella. Yes, he needs to calm down, you need to calm down—it's better this way. Yes, calm down, Edward. I know you. Go down to the parking garage, catch your breath, and come back up to me. Oh, we need to talk, Edward. You need help, my love. _

I stand frozen for several minutes. My eyes stay fixed on the doorknob, willing it to turn.

_Maybe he's in his car, listening to music. Yes, his music. He's listening to music and trying to form his apology. _

I wait…

and wait…

_He's gone. _

The quiet voice inside my head speaks an agonizing truth.

Stunned.

Numb.

_He'll come back. _

I wait.

"Come back," I croak.

I close my eyes. _He__'__s__ gone._ _It__'__s __final. __I __feel __it._

The realization slices me open. My blood drained, I make a step toward a dining room chair, but it is no use, my knees buckle and I drop to the floor.

_NO!_I howl in my head.

There's a directive inside of me not to cry, but it is no use. _Hide __my __tears __for __whom_? I am alone, really alone. I let go, and allow myself to feel this pain, to wail, to pull my knees to my chest and sit in the puddle of my soul spilling out of me.

_How__ did__ this __happen? _His beautiful green eyes turned so cold they frightened me_—_but I know it is his fear in those eyes. Those are not the beautiful eyes of my beloved Edward, it's the anger inside of him. He's an injured animal in a cage. I've always tried to get too close, he has swiped at me in the past, but this time he claws caught skin and ripped me open.

_He'll come back. Please come back._

Irony is a dull knife stabbing repeatedly in my open wound. He prefers me like this—sobbing, sick, desperate for his love. Here I am again, in this same pathetic state, but now he's gone. _Christ, __strengthen __me._

Each passing minute confirms my fears. _How __long__ have __I __been __sitting__ here?_ _How __long__ ago __did __his __alarm __go __off?_ He doesn't like who I am becoming… but I love this woman.

_Call __him. __End__ this __agony. __Let__ him __wrap __you __in __his__ arms __and __tell__ you __how __much__ he__ loves __you. __Get __your __phone! _A voice screams inside my pounding head. But I can't. As much as I love him, as much as I want his love, I cannot exchange the love I have for myself for his.

More time passes, cementing our fate, and the tears stream without pause.

I hear a key in the lock, my heart stops. _Thank __you __Jesus, __he__'__s __back. _Sitting up straight, pressing my back against the dining room wall, I collect myself. A shuddering breath, a swallow of tears, I quickly wipe my face on my t-shirt—I don't want him to see me this way.

"Bella…? What the fuck happened?" Alice appears from behind the corner, wheeling herself to me.

_It's Alice… He really isn't coming back. _

"I… he… Edward's gone. We broke… we're…" The daze wears off and my vision blurs again with hot tears.

"That Motherfucker!"

"No," I curl my fingers around the wheel of Alice's chair, "d-don't say that. I love him."

How can I explain that this is my fault too? I'm no longer the woman who he loves. I can end this with one phone call, but refuse to do so.

A large hand takes mine from Alice's wheel. "Bella," a man's compassionate voice—Jasper is here, kneeling next to me. "Let me help you up."

I nod my head and wipe my tears on my arm. Jasper wraps his hand around my waist and helps me to stand. I'm dizzy. My stomach roils and I swallow back bile. Jasper guides me to my bedroom and into my bed. Pulling the covers up to my neck, I imagine being wrapped in the loving arms of Mother Mary, the only real mother I've ever known.

I feel the mattress compress as Alice slides in behind me.

"Oh, Bella. What happened?" Alice rubs my arm.

"A fight." I try, I really try to get out more, but I fail.

"A fight about what?"

"Everything."

"Honey, you'll make up tomorrow. It's just a fight."

"No. We won't… I know it." And I do.

Alice hands me some tissues that disintegrate in my hands as soon at they touch my tears. _Oh, __how __I__ will__ miss __his __handkerchiefs._ _I __will __miss __so __much._

"Bella?" Jasper is in front of me holding a glass of water and a pill. "I found samples of Xanax in your medicine chest. I think you need to take one." He goes on about its effects, but I don't need convincing. I only need this feeling to subside.

I nod and sit up; he helps me take the pill, and I rest back down.

Jasper takes out his phone and starts to dial. _On __the __phone __with __Edward? __Here __in __my__ bedroom?__ I __don__'__t __want__ this, __or __maybe __I __do._ He walks outside of my room and I close my eyes.

"Look, I know you love that crazy, handsome shit…" Alice begins her speech, "and there's a lot to love there. But he can't treat you this way, Bella. First Newton, and now…"

_No. Alice does the unspeakable. He's not Mike Newton, as I've told myself a thousand times. I am the flawed one. It must be me. I'm a fool to have rushed in._

I tune her out for my own sanity, and pray for sleep. Exhaustion, Xanax, the Grace of God, something begins to pull me away and I am grateful.

_Tonight I will sleep. Tomorrow I will start anew… or I will try. Tomorrow I will still love him, and the next day, and the next… for eternity and beyond, he will be my Edward…_

Darkness comes, but distant voices remain…

"Did you get him? What did he say?"

"No. There's no answer. I left a message and a text."

"He might be your best friend, Jasper, but so help me God…"

"I know, Alice. I know."

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

I know. My heart hurts, too. Please share what you think—but try not to beat up on me too hard.

***hiding behind the couch***

Please don't forget the outtake donation. You have until November 20.

Update in about a week.

Liz x


	32. Painted Walls

**Greetings from Tent City**

Dear Readers,

I've been in LA for all things Twi for my research project (and to be a fan girl). It is an emotionally and physically draining experience.

The reviews from the last chapter are incredible heart-felt messages that speak right to me. I treasure them, but have been unable to respond to most. I hope you understand.

I've been out of touch with my pre-readers and beta (family, friends, etc.) since getting out here.

Thank you to the usual suspects who have been waiting to hear from me: **orangeapeal,**** Sunshine**, and **robsjenn.**

A very special thanks to **xoEMC **who jumped in to beta this chapter.

Reminder: A friend of mine in the fandom, Tammi (aka PattzStewGlobal) lost her son in a tragic car accident two weeks ago. You can donate to receive the Jasper x Alice outtake to raise funds to defer funeral costs until November 20th.

More details can be found here: http:/welcome-to-the-rileys-saturday(dot)blogspot(dot)com/2011/10/auction-to-raise-funds-for(dot)html

Just use a dot in the places it says.

**Warning: Angst**

From my heart…

* * *

Chapter Thirty-two  
Painted Walls

.

.

"Edward, come on, run," Carlisle beckons me from the end of a long hallway and I take off sprinting towards him. "There's a person in the Family Room who needs your help."

I look down and see I'm wearing a stained concert shirt. "I'm sorry, Carlisle. I was in the library studying for finals. Did I miss the final?"

"No, Edward." He lays his hand on my back and pushes me into the room. "Now go."

I trip over my feet, stepping clumsily inside, and see that the room is empty with the exception of a figure sitting in the corner, dressed in an oversized coat, looking out the window.

I approach. "Bella? Is that you? Do you need me?" There's no response. The head is bowed. I can't see her—I want to see her.

Beads of sweat collect on my brow. I take another step closer. "It's okay that you need me. I want to take care of you, Bella."

"Reverend Cullen?"

The figure turns around and I stumble backwards, horrified. I see myself sitting in the corner. Sixteen, ghost-white, and terrified. My hands are wrapped in gauze, stained with blood. I'm wearing blue flannel pajamas, hospital socks, and someone else's coat. I look even younger than my age.

Carlisle walks to my adolescent self and I watch the memory play out.

"Edward, we've been looking everywhere for you." He takes a knee in front of me and places his hand on my neck. I can feel it myself, here, now.

"I'm sorry, sir. I was in the backseat of my dad's car." Oh, my voice is so young, sorrowful_._ My brows are pulled together and I wear a guilty expression. _Poor kid. You didn't do anything wrong._

"I know, son." His voice breaks on the word. "I came as soon as I heard they found you."

"Thank you, sir." I see the anxiety in my dark eyes, the confusion, and loss. "Should I go home now, Reverend?"

"No. No, Edward…" Carlisle is distraught and trying to be so careful. "This has been a horrible day; the worst day and night ever, hasn't it Edward?"

I nod. "Yeah… yes, sir." My engrained good manners serve as a foundation, taking over even in despair.

"I'll tell you what we're going to do—we're going to go to our house. Esme is there and she really, really wants to see you. Okay?" Carlisle fights back tears and looks away to steal himself.

"Yes, sir."

"And we… we have all these bedrooms in our house… you like our house, don't you, Edward?"

"Yes. Very much," I say with trepidation, knowing what is to come.

"Esme and I would really like it if you would come stay with us. Would you do that, Edward? Would you come and stay with us?"

I can't watch. I squeeze my eyes shut, unable to look at the fear in my young face.

"Thank you for the offer, Reverend Cullen. But I don't want to overstay my welcome. Maybe I can go home tomorrow. I'm pretty sure I can take care of myself."

"How about we go home now and talk about it tomorrow? Okay, Edward?"

I've seen enough_._ I take a few steps toward the door, but am stopped by Carlisle blocking the doorway.

"Edward, where are you going? Bella needs you."

"It's not Bella, Carlisle. This is a dream or something."

"Are you sure? It looks like Bella to me," he says, looking over my shoulder.

I turn around to see my mom sitting in the chair. _My God, she's here._The sun brightens her face. She's well and smiling. I don't care if this is a dream.

"Hi, buddy. Are you here to give your mom a hand?"

"Yeah, Mom." I run the few steps to her and fall to my knees. "You need me, Mom? What can I do? I'll do anything."

My heart is expanding, spreading, filling my entire body, reaching my toes and fingers. She's glowing like a painting of an angel, or an illustration you'd find in Sunday School children's books.

"You're such a sweet kid. How'd I get so lucky?" She places her hand on my cheek and I lean into it, hoping to sense the warmth of her palm, but I feel nothing.

"Can you pick me up?" She wrinkles her nose at the strangeness of the request. "Carry me?"

"Absolutely, Mom."

I start to slide my arm under her knees, but she stops me. "Edward, what happened to your hands?"

Now the gauze covers me. Blood seeps through the cotton. "It's nothing, Mom. I'm okay."

I move one arm around her back and the other under her legs. Closing my eyes, I pray I can lift her, right my wrong from the funeral. It is the reason I relish carrying my Bella.

I stand, lifting her with me. I'm so happy, I could levitate with her in my arms.

"Edward, you can put me down."

I open my eyes and look down at the face of Bella. It is she who is in my arms. My mother is gone.

"Bella, where's my mom?"

"She died, Edward. I'm so sorry."

"I know." My face falls. There was so much I wanted to tell her. I swallow the bitter pill and look down at the love in my arms. "Can I carry you, Bella?"

She tilts her head and breaks the news, "No, Edward. I don't need you anymore."

I spring awake and jolt up. "What the fuck?" I'm in a dark motel room. The sweat-soaked sheet sticks to my naked chest.

It takes a second for me to remember where I am and how I got here. I fought with Bella, got in my car and started to drive. A couple of hours later, I was at the Canadian border. I ended up at the Anchor Inn Motel, Blaine Washington—a six-pack, Sports Center, and my cell phone clutched in my hand.

It's still in my hand.

I pry open my aching fingers and stretch them out. Another text from Jasper.

I send him the same text I sent last night:

Jasper,  
Give me a few days.  
I'll be in touch.  
-Edward

I look through my voice mail and messages once more, just in case. Nothing from her. From my bed, I can see beginning of an orange sky. _I__ need__ to __go__—__it__'__s__ time._

The shower runs cold for several minutes while I unwrap the small soap and uncap the tiny bottle of shampoo. My mind wanders to my dream. _Who am I saving, anyway? My mom? Myself? Bella?_ I shake my head and laugh sardonically. Jack Sparrow would love to get his hands on this. Too bad I'll miss his appointment today. I'm done with dreams. Probably appointments, too. Done with everything.

The shower warms and I step in. I work up a lather with the small soap and move my hands up and down my body in circles, washing away the smell of stale beer.

As I wash my hair, I solidify my conclusions from last night: Since meeting Bella, my world has been turned upside down—anxiety, panic attacks, anger and, as of this morning, nightmares are all back. I don't need any of it. I was probably a better person before Bella. My life was set with Carlisle, Esme, Jasper, the church, and a clear career path—I was probably happy. Happier?

Bella doesn't need me anymore, and I can live with that. I've done my Christian duty by nursing her back from the brink. Now she can move on, and so can I.

I turn the water as hot as it will go. The scorching feels so fucking good_._ I test myself to see how long I can bear the pain… counting slowly, marking my endurance. One… two… three… sweat mixes with water… My skin turns bright red and for the first time since last night, I feel something… six… seven—Too Much-I lurch away and press my body against the cool tiles of the shower.

I get out of the shower and dry myself with thin, scratchy towels. I put on my clothes from last night and walk out into the room where my phone sits on the dresser next to the small television.

_Alright Bella, one last time. If there's a message from you, I throw that whole plan away. If not, we're done._

I look. Twice. There's nothing. It only confirms that I'm right.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I stare blankly at the screen of my cell phone for a long time. I don't know how long. Several minutes… an hour? Once again, I consider texting her. Back together? No. I put that thought to rest last night. But, I told lies. I should rectify the lies before we end all of this.

I start the text:

The name Teddy doesn't bother me.  
I do love your house.  
You're head is on straight about money.  
I wanted to buy you things but was afraid to offer—  
I don't know why.  
I'm sad when you're sad and happy for you  
when you are happy…  
I wish you the best of luck  
with all of your endeavors.

_Fuck. _

I flop back on the bed. _Don__'__t __do __it __Edward.__ Don__'__t __open __that __door. __A __clean __break __is __what __you __need._My thumb hovers for a moment, then I press 'Delete.'

I peel myself from the bed and put on my watch, hoping that fucking alarm won't go off again. Three times it woke me in the middle of the night, and I have no patience to figure it out.

The phone and wallet go in my pocket and I walk to the door. _Wait__… __No._ I take out my phone, the vortex of my obsession. From the door, I toss it… a perfect arch in the air, it hits the edge of the trashcan, and falls in.

I grab the door handle and give one last look. This is where I leave it all—my sorrow, my memories, my... "Good-bye, Bella." I close the door.

.

.

.

~0~

.

.

.

There's a pounding on the door. I know it's Jasper. Unable to avoid this any longer, I place down my paint roller, and wipe my hands on my t-shirt.

He pounds again, "I know you're in there, Edward. I saw your car."

I take a breath and open the door. "Hey, buddy, how have you been?"

"How have I been?" He's indignant.

I walk to the kitchen. "Can I get you a beer?" I hide my face in the fridge while I get out two beers and gather myself. I knew this first meet up would be tough. He is silent. I can sense him counting the pizza boxes and take out containers scattered throughout the kitchen.

Jasper takes the beer and strolls around the apartment, surveying my mess, I'm sure.

"Where's your couch?" he asks.

"I got rid of it." I say casually. _Too many memories._ "All I really need are the two chairs. Just like when we were in college, right?" I slap his back and grin.

Jasper throws his trench coat over one of the chairs and stands in the middle of my living room with his arms crossed, staring at my painted walls.

"Painting?"

"Yeah."

"Hm. Which color are you going with…? The brown or the baby blue?"

"Um… haven't decided. Maybe both. Or, you know, I might paint the whole thing white tomorrow."

"May I have a seat?"

"What? Yeah, of course… why are you asking?"

He shrugs and takes a seat on the one chair that isn't holding laundry. Crossing one leg over the other he inspects me, and the condo, for quite some time.

_Fuck, I really should have called him. _

"Where have you been for the last five days, Edward?"

"Five? It's only been four, I think."

"No. Five days and not one returned phone call."

I sigh. It's time to get this all out. "Listen Jasper, I'm sorry. Finals were this week, I've been pretty much living—literally living—at the library. Everything finished up last night. The semester is done and now I'm working on getting the condo in shape."

He looks around again, but seems to swallow his criticism about the look of the place.

"What's your excuse for not calling?"

"No phone."

"You lost your phone?" he says, incredulously.

"No. Not lost. I got rid of it, Jasper. And I have to tell you, it is the most liberating fucking thing I've ever done. I swear, Jasper, you should get rid of your phone, too."

The damn has broken and I want to share my happiness. "I'm sorry you were trying to get a hold of me… I know I should have gotten in touch, but really, the phone, the internet… it's all created to fuck us up. We're slaves to it, Jasper. I can't begin to tell you how incredible this week has been… how much I've accomplished. It's fucking nuts."

"I have to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me, Edward… Are you on coke?"

"What? Like… like _coke_, coke?"

"Cocaine, amphetamines, speed… something…"

"No, why would you say that?"

"Look at yourself. You're twitching, sweating, your sniffling like a coke-head, pacing around like you're high…"

"No. God, no. I'm… I have a cold I can't get rid of." I go into the bathroom and grab some toilet paper to blow my nose again. I look in the mirror and notice my sallow complexion, the grey-purple circles, and my scruff that is quickly turning into a coarse beard. Okay, I look like shit.

I splash water on my face and call out from the bathroom, "Alright, truth be told… I'm sort of living on coffee. I think I've had about twenty pots in the last few days. You know, finals."

When I walk out, I find Jasper across the room, fingering a hole in the wall. "Was this your cell phone?"

"No. That was my watch." It smashed to pieces when I threw it across the room.

Jasper stands. "Grab your coat, we're going out."

"No, Jasper, now's not a good time," I whine.

"What's so pressing, Edward?"

"I have stuff to do… I have paint out, the wall to fix…"

"And it all has to be done right this minute?"

I massage my temples, hoping my headache will cease. "Jasper, I'm trying to get the condo in order… I think I'm putting it on the market."

"Let me guess, you aren't looking to move to the suburbs."

We have a stare down for several moments.

"I'm looking at some PhD programs out in Chicago." I feel myself shrinking at his glare. I knew this would be hard… now I just have to tell Carlisle and Esme.

"Get your coat," he insists in a cold voice.

"Jas-"

"DO NOT push me."

I get my coat and follow him out the door.

.

.

.

A/N: I know. It's short. Hang in there. If you want to know if this story is HEA, ask me in your review and I WILL get back to you. Some have asked already, but your PM must be enabled for me to respond.

Please do not forget the auction for funeral funds mentioned in the A/N. You have 5 more days to contribute for the Jasper x Alice outtake.

Be well.

Liz x

PS-let me know what you think.


	33. Three Witches

Dear Readers,

Happy Anniversary! It has been one year since I posted the first chapter of She Gives Me Religion for the Cherry Exchange contest.

We are approaching the end and, though we're not there yet, it has been a wonderful ride.

It was overwhelming to hear from so many long time readers last week for the first time. I'm glad to know you are out there.

Thank you all for your support of this story.

Thank you to the lovely group of women: **orangeapeal, ****Sunshine****(aka**** TessUnderground)**who beta-ed this chapter,and **robsjenn.**

**Warning: Angst in this chapter increases as we go. Put on two angst cloaks, maybe three (lots of threes in this chapter).**

.

.

.

* * *

Chapter Thirty-three  
Three Witches

.

.

.

For three minutes, I am all over the squash court, slamming the ball at an unmatched speech and force… burning off all of my bridled energy… until I am sapped. I bend over and cough, waiting for a piece of my lung to appear.

"See that. I smelled the cigarette smoke in your apartment."

"Leave me alone, Jasper. It's not smoking, it's my cold. You won. I'm done."

"Oh no. We are far from done. If it's a cold, sweat it out." He proceeds to embarrass me, punish me, as I chase after the ball, unable to get in a decent shot for the rest of the game.

When he scores the last point, I drop my racquet and press my palms to the wall, leg muscles trembling. "Are we done now, Jasper?" I get out between heavy breaths.

"No. Best out of three." He whips out a crushing serve.

I decide to play the games without complaint. He has yet to ask a single question about the breakup, and I prefer it this way.

Two hours and still no question. We're at Kell's finishing my second serving of Irish stew, and I begin to wonder if he'll ever bring up the elephant in the room—in my mind—its weight now crushing me. I see his game; he's waiting for me to open the door.

My insides are twisting with anticipation, the need to finally start the conversation so I can finish it.

"How's Alice?" A simple question, I figure.

"Not great."

_Oh, shit._

"No? Is it her pelvis…? Did something happen?"

"Physically, she's fine. But, like me," Jasper gives a sideways glance, "she's frustrated and annoyed right now."

"Oh."

Time lapses—a waiting game to see who will continue. Finally, I give in.

"Frustrated at me? Her?"

"The name is Bella, Edward. And yes… both of you. But you're a little higher on the list."

"So, she told you. Did she tell you about how she doesn't need me…"

"Yes, yes. I heard all about it." Several times, from the sound of it. "Want, need, whatever… doesn't really matter, does it?"

_Of course it matters._

"So you heard about… setting the alarm on my watch?"

"What alarm?"

I dig my hands in my hair. She saved my ugliest moment from our friends. _What does that mean?_

"What alarm?" Jasper asks again.

"Never mind… So, you really don't understand? You don't understand how what she said to me…"

"No. I don't understand at all." He takes another drink, and looks straight ahead as he speaks. "Alice wants to lock the two of you in a room together. I want to put Alice on a plane, fly to Canyon Ranch, and spend a week together detoxing."

His expression is hard; it's not what I expected. Maybe I've finally reached his limit of friendship.

I smile. "Finally giving up on me, Jasper?"

"No… not yet, anyway."

I nod, only somewhat relieved, and begin to play with my napkin, tearing it into pieces and rolling each one into a tight ball. _I can't lose Jasper._

"So tell me, Edward, how do you see the breakup? The relationship?"

It's an easy question; I've repeated the story so many times in my mind.

"I met a girl. A nice girl, a lot like myself. We dated for almost two months. I learned about relationships in that time. It ran its course, and in the end, I think I'll always be glad that my first real relationship was with her."

I lean in and whisper, "I got to lose my, you know, to someone who was cool, nice… whatever." I straighten back up. "And now I can move on and start looking for the next one. The next relationship should go better, right?"

He stares at me for a minute, then breaks into hearty, dark laugh. I look at his drink and wonder how many he's had.

"I'll tell you, buddy," he slaps my back, "you're ability to delude yourself is astounding." He pinches the place where my neck meets my shoulder a little too hard. "Really, fucking amazing. It's a gift, Edward."

I press my head into my hand and rub my temples. _I want to go home, now._

"Tell me what Sparrow has to say about all of this."

"Um… I haven't seen Sparrow since we broke up."

"You should have called him."

"No ph—"

"Don't," he snaps. "Don't use that excuse with me."

I swallow and gather myself. I owe Jasper something, so I put it out there. "Jasper, I don't think I've told Sparrow a whole lot about myself yet."

"You've been seeing him for a month. What do you mean?"

"We're sort of working chronologically."

"Where are you?"

I glance at Jasper, and say sheepishly, "I'm going to talk about my parents during our next session."

"Jeez." Jasper rubs his eyes, his body slumps. "He's being too easy on you… and you're manipulating him. Maybe I suggested the wrong person."

"No. No he's… fine." _You're not responsible for my failure._

"Alright, give it to me." He makes a gesture with his hand like he's asking for my keys.

"Give you what?"

"Permission. I want to talk to Sparrow."

"No, Jasper. I can't. Please don't do this."

He turns his full body towards me, and though he appears to be smiling, he's actually gnashing his teeth.

"Edward…"

"Okay, okay, you can talk to him," I quickly say, willing to give Jasper anything he wants, as long as he doesn't give up on me.

.

When we pull up to The Vine, Jasper tells me he'll be over on Saturday to watch college football.

"If you need me before that, you know how to reach me."

"Yeah. Thanks, Jasper."

"Get some sleep. You look like shit."

I laugh, reaching for the handle, "You don't look too good either."

As I exit the car, Jasper grabs the sleeve of my coat, "Edward, wait," the sincerity in his eyes frightens me, "Ever since meeting Alice… I don't know. What you and Bella have, had, no _have_…" I've never seen Jasper fumble for words. "What I'm trying to say is, true love is not the kind of thing you should turn down… don't ever turn it down."

I nod quickly and exit the car, chasing away from the lump rising in my throat. With a wave, I pass Carlton, my doorman, and nearly run to the elevator, down the hall, up the stairs and into my bed.

I made it the whole night without once asking how She was.

Grabbing my pillow, my replacement, I fall away into another night of turbulent sleep. _I'm such a pussy._

~0~

I wake.

What day is this?

I've been in bed for a while—a day or two.

I walk downstairs, past the cans of hardened paint and turn on the TV. _The Today Show. _It's Friday morning—one full week since we broke up. It can only get better now. I can still make my appointment with Sparrow. Though it's the last thing I want to do, I'll do it for Jasper.

Sparrow drones on about closure and finishing things we start. He brings up how I stopped therapy years ago, left working for the company, and how I'm walking away from Her. I wonder just how much Jasper told him. Honestly, I don't think he's on the right path. I can hardly listen to him anymore. Fortunately, the session is almost over and I've barely needed to say a word.

"Your turn, Edward."

_My turn?_

"I want to hear it from you. One full story of something that ended without closure… you decide."

It doesn't take long.

"Okay. I have one. Detective Jenks."

"He worked your parents' case?"

"Yes. I would leave school every day and go to the station to see him. Carlisle and Esme assumed I was at school, doing after school stuff, I guess."

"You weren't playing ball because of your hands?"

"Right."

"So, what did you do there?"

I laugh. "Bugged the shit out of him… poor guy. 'Any leads on the case, Detective?' Can I help out, Detective? Look at pictures? Get you coffee? I can give my statement again?' Yeah. I guess you can say I got in the way. He finally put a stop to it."

"What did he do?"

"One day I showed up and Carlisle was waiting outside for me."

"Jenks called him?"

"Yep. And that was the end of that."

"And you see this as something you didn't finish?"

"Sure. Look at all of my resources, but I was never able to pull it together. You'd think my money, my parents' money, could at least fund a decent investigation."

"It's a common reaction, particularly for men, to focus on solving a murder instead of allowing the grief process to take place."

"Telling me I'm common doesn't make me feel any better." Angrily, I pick at a piece of lint on my flannel.

"My job isn't necessarily to make you feel better, Edward."

It's the strongest tone he's ever taken with me.

"Well, it looks like it's about that time, Jack." I stand to leave.

"Before you go, I'd like to talk to you about medication."

"Not interested."

"You want to go into clinical psychology, but buy into the stigma of medication?"

"No, it's not that. I just want to work this out on my own, that's all."

"Sit with the idea. We'll talk about it again next week."

~o~

I wake up in time to get a quick shower before Jasper arrives. By the time he knocks on the door, I've managed to pile up the paint cans by the piano, now hidden under a blanket.

He doesn't bring the usual football fare, but bags of groceries, actual groceries—salad, fresh fruit, and a week's worth of meat he puts in the freezer for me.

"Where's that cleaning person been? What's her name?"

"Jane?"

"Right, Jane. You should call her."

_Her number was in my phone._

"If you can't get a hold of her, let me know. I'll send over mine."

"Thanks."

We each take a seat in one of my two living room chairs and have the first home cooked meal I've had in a week. We talk football, only football, and I'm glad. Until we reach the fourth quarter of the Alabama State-Texas Southern game and the seams of my restraint rip open.

"So, um, Alice is doing okay? Her pelvis?"

"Yes. Physical therapy is going well."

"Do you need any rides? I could always take her."

"I think we have it covered. Thanks, though."

I lick my lips and try to find the words that are turning around my tongue—the name I haven't uttered in week's time.

"And, um, Bella? How is she doing?"

"Sorry, can't tell you… _Aw, son of a bitch_!" he yells at whatever is happening in the game, but I can't peel my eyes away from him.

"W-What do you mean? You can't tell me?"

"Alice and I have a pact. Neither of you gets any information about the other. If you want to see how Bella is doing, contact her."

I laugh once, waiting for the punch line, but he is still watching the game. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." He looks over to me, then gestures casually with his beer, "I'm not enabling this shit and neither is Alice."

I'm bereft.

No information? But if they have a pact, it means Bella asked about me, too. I should pull my act together. Maybe invite her for coffee. Closure, we need closure.

Or, maybe not.

It's something to think about.

~0~

I'm in Kell's again. It looks like life has reduced my days into two options: staying in bed or coming here. At least here, I'm fed. I can talk to Riley about football scores and avoid talking to anyone or about anything I don't want.

I reach for my beer and see a glass of club soda in its place. This is Riley's new method of telling me I've had enough. He told me with words once—and it didn't go over well. Now, club soda appears, and I say nothing. I don't feel drunk, just tired and achy.

There's a pretty young woman sitting diagonally from me. I think she's alone. Maybe she's waiting for someone. Long chestnut hair and large blue eyes.

Different enough, but similar enough, too.

"Hi. How are you?" The words come out of me before I decide to speak.

"Um… Hi… good." She looks up, makes brief eye contact, and looks away.

_Shy. _

_Shy is good. _

_I like shy. _

I move over one stool, now just the corner of the bar between us.

"I'm Edward. I don't know if I've ever seen you here before." Curious how my fear of women has abated. Maybe I only needed one relationship under my belt. _Maybe I don't care anymore._

"I'm Susie." She extents her hand in a business like fashion. It's soft and warm. She bristles at the chill in mine. I stroke my beard, wishing it were gone. "And no. I've never been here before. First time in Seattle."

I ask her a few questions and learn that she is here for a conference, waiting to meet up with friends. She laughs and blushes when I tell her how pretty her hair is. _I want to touch it. So badly._

I bet she feels warm and soft.

Our conversation is over when her friends arrive.

"This is Edward," she introduces me, and I'm met with skeptical expressions by two men and a woman in business attire. They each shake my hand like we're about to merge companies and Susie says a quick, "It was nice chatting with you, Edward," before they all leave to grab a table.

I throw my credit card on the bar for Riley.

"Nah, it's okay, Edward. You only had a couple of beers." My confusion must be evident. "I just switched over to club soda because you looked so tired. Do you want some coffee or something?"

I shake my head and push the credit card towards him. "Come on, let's settle up."

"I can't, Edward." He presses his hands on the bar and leans in to talk. "Edward, you've gotta stop leaving those tips, man. It isn't right. I don't think you know what you're doing."

But I do. I know exactly what I'm doing.

"Alright Riley, let's stop fucking around with the tips. Let's buy the bar. You and me… right now. No more saving up."

He shakes his head and leans away, "Ed—"

"No, no, listen, hear me out. I'm completely serious. Let's buy the bar. You can run it, I just, I just want to be able to come here and… I don't know… see what you do with it. Just… don't change it too much. I love it as it is."

"Edward… that's nice of you. I'm gonna call you a cab now, okay buddy."

"I'm serious, Riley," I lean in and plead in a quiet, tight voice.

"I know."

"I can do it. This card alone can do it."

"_I_ _know._"

_Will no one let me help?_

I nod and put the card back in my wallet. "Will you at least think about it?"

"Sure, Edward." He goes for the phone.

"No cabs. I'm going to walk."

"Hi, Edward." The redhead takes the seat I was occupying. After several nights of staring at me from across the bar, I knew she'd finally make her way over here.

"Victoria, right? I don't know if you've picked up on this yet, but I'm not interested."

"Oh… okay," she's insulted. Maybe I've been too harsh.

I mumble a quick sorry.

"No, I deserve it. I wanted to come over and apologize, that's all." She flashes a half smile and looks down at her drink.

"Fine… I'm waiting."

_Someone should apologize to me—I'll take it where I can get it._

"Is your girlfriend here?"

"No. She's… traveling." The lie worked once before. "Why?"

"I wanted to apologize to her, too." Victoria looks different than she has before. Shame is etched into her face. I'm torn between softening, going easier on her or tearing her apart because I can—fuck it, I choose the latter.

"Well she's not here. And if you're going to apologize, make it quick, because I'm heading out."

"Stay for one drink?"

"No."

I made the right choice; being a dick is giving me much needed pleasure.

"Okay… I have a really twisted sense of humor. Sorry." She grimaces apologetically before she continues. "I misread people sometimes, thinking that they're like me. Really… you're girlfriend seems great. I'll tell you what, she-is-tough." She laughs and puts her hand on my shoulder.

I look at it—creamy white and warm—it shouldn't be there. She pulls it away, sliding her hand down my arm.

"Anyway, Edward. It was just a little joke, sending the drinks over. Clearly, it was only funny to me. I am sorry." She offers her hand, "Truce?"

I glare at her hand, but choose not to touch it. "Truce."

"You sure you won't stay for one more drink?"

"Positive."

~o~

I light a cigarette and sit on the curb across the street from Her apartment. The bedroom light is off again tonight. _Is she out for the night or gone for good? I don't know._ I hope she's safe wherever she is.

_Have you moved on? Are you dating Jacob? Was I right about him, after all?_

Taking another drag, I watch the orange ember glow. I wish I could crawl inside the cigarette—it looks warm there, and I'm always so cold. I fool myself into believing that the smoke I inhale is heating me from the inside.

I should go home.

I pull myself up and stagger past what used to be a phone booth. 'Never call drunk,' I once wrote. _Couldn't if I wanted to._ I smile at the irony. On some level, I must have known I'd want to. Glad I got rid of that phone.

This isn't healthy. Tomorrow is a new day. I'll get up early, go for a run, clean the apartment, and go food shopping—a small things to do list, easily accomplished.

I should see Carlisle and Esme, touch base with Jasper, too. I'll do that the day after tomorrow. Time to stop wallowing.

~0~

Twirling the TV remote between my fingers, I stare at my half-painted walls.

I'm so bored.

And hungry.

I should really go food shopping tomorrow.

The things to do list grows, but I can get nothing accomplished.

_Come on, Edward—get one thing done today, just one._

I pull myself from the living room chair and head to the shower.

For the first time in a long time, I put effort into my appearance. I trim my beard, but avoid a hard look at myself in the mirror, knowing I won't like what I see.

I button up a shirt that Jay picked out for me once, still with its tags, put on shoes, and grab my jacket on the way out the door to Kell's.

I walk down to the bar letting the sixteen year old accompany me:

_The shower did you good—you feel better. That was all you needed. Really, what else do you have to do today? You're fine. Allow yourself time off from life—you don't owe anyone anything._

The place is more crowded than it's been in a while. It must be a weekend. Beer is for children. I drink Jameson, hoping to go slowly enough to stop Riley from switching me to soda.

"Edward Masen," it's a deep, sexy voice from my past, "I heard you were hanging out here again."

I turn and wait for my eyes to adjust to the familiar, but different shape.

"Tanya?"

"Yes. Tanya. Don't look so surprised, I haven't changed that much."

I stand and slide my arms around her center; she reaches up and wraps hers around my neck—and for a moment, it feels like she's my long lost best friend.

"Tanya, Tanya, Tanya… God, you look gorgeous."

I squeeze her again, loving the new, full shape of her body. Large breasts pressing into my chest, my fingers dip down to her wide hips, and brush against her thick thigh before letting go.

I scan over the image before me, gone are the hard edges of bone and muscle—she is soft, warm, curvaceous.

"Stop looking at me like that, Edward. I don't look that good."

"Yes, yes you do, Tanya."

"Well," she cocks her head, "you're looking pretty good yourself. I like this beard."

She runs her fingers along my whiskers and gives a tug at my chin. I can't help it. My eyes fall down to her soft breasts covered in a tight, red sweater.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, trying to meet her eyes again.

"Office Christmas party, upstairs."

"A little early for a Christmas party, isn't it?"

She gives me a quirky smile. It must be closer to Christmas than I realize.

"Stay for a drink?"

"Yeah… love to." She takes the stool next to mine. "I think the drinks are a little watered down upstairs," she whispers with her frosted pink lips.

Riley pours me another finger of Jameson and Tanya orders a scotch. _I love a woman who can drink._

"I heard you entered a seminary."

She makes it sound like a convent.

"Well, yes, I guess you could say that. I went back to get my Masters in Divinity."

"I was glad to hear it. It made a lot of sense, if you know what I mean."

She flirts with a sultry voice and one raised brow, bringing her drink to her mouth.

"And you, Ms. Denali, thought I was gay."

"Why else would you resist my charms?"

I smirk and finish my drink. Pressing my forearms onto the polished wood of the bar, I slide my body over until my lips are inches from her ear, the teenager inside encouraging me.

"I have a secret for you… I'm not in seminary any more."

"No?"

I shake my head and mouth, "No."

She turns to me and now we mirror one another—each resting one elbow onto the bar.

I'm coming onto her, without fear. _So fucking liberating._

"So… what are your plans, Edward Masen…? What are you going to do with yourself?"

My drink is gone, so I take a sip of hers. She watches me take my time and I notice her pupils dilate—her breathing increase—her skin pink up.

"What I plan on doing is having some fun, for a change. Making up for lost time..."

"Sowing your wild oats?" she says wryly.

"Something like that… righting the wrongs of my past. You know, missed opportunities and all."

"We had a few of those."

"Yes, we did, Tanya."

My toes are hanging off the edge of the cliff. I fear no evil. I raise my arms and allow myself to fly…

"Tanya, I think we should get out of here. Let me right some of those wrongs."

"Edward Masen," she shakes her head, "as beautiful as ever… and just as maddening."

Tanya takes my hand, and presses her palm to my own.

"You see this, Edward…" Sympathy drips in her tenor… _please no sympathy_. "This is my wedding ring. You should look for these as you're sowing your wild oats."

I pull away. "Sorry, I didn't realize…"

"It's okay, Edward. Boy, if I weren't married to the love of my life," she lightens her tone.

"Congratulations, that's great," I mutter, hoping for some more whiskey.

"Let me show you something…"

Seconds later, she is showing me pictures of her twin boys on her cell phone. God, this is humiliating. _Bitch._ No, she's not a bitch.

"I get it Tanya… sorry, my mistake."

"No, no, no… don't get me wrong, Edward." She presses her hand onto my forearm, "I want this for you, too. Forget those oats. Find a nice girl, Edward. Settle down, have a family. You'd be great at it."

"It was great seeing you, Tanya," I dismiss her as gracefully as I can.

"Alright, Edward," she sighs. "Take care of yourself, okay."

"Yep. Thanks, you too." My clipped tone shoves her back upstairs.

I show Riley my empty glass. Since he saw the whole thing, he doesn't argue when I say this is the last drink and I'm walking home.

It goes down like water.

I turn the glass upside down on the bar, and sway my way to the door.

"Edward, wait…"

_Fuck, not Victoria. I have no strength._

Busting out into the cold air, I continue to make my way down the street, but her voice follows.

"Edward, wait, just a second."

_Fuck it, Edward. What do you have to lose?_

I turn and lean against the wall. "Yes, Victoria. Want to rub salt on my wounds?"

"No, no. Of course not."

There are two of her in front of me, I blink until she merges into one.

"Edward, listen," she holds my jaw, stabilizing my wobbling head. "You and I are no different."

I laugh and squeeze my eyes shut. "Yes, yes, we are…"

"No we aren't. We are two heartbroken people looking for comfort."

_She's the devil._

_She speaks the truth. Fuck it, Edward… what are you hanging onto?_

"Come… let me care for you."

_Maybe she's an angel._

_NO!_ screams in my head, and then the voice of reason comes…

_You have no reason to struggle. _

_No one to struggle for. _

_Bella is gone._

"Come." Victoria takes my hand and I submit.

A few yards down, we are walking up the stairs to her apartment above a store.

A harsh florescent light illuminates the staircase.

I see her body sway as she takes each step.

Her red curls falling over the white fur draped over her shoulders.

Her high heel boots clicking on each wood step.

"Come in."

I enter the Lion's den, leaving my armor at the door.

I leave my body, too.

Watching, wondering what will take place.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

I take the steps down three at a time, racing for the door.

Out in the cold darkness, I turn into the alley and vomit whiskey and mucus and any dignity I once had.

_I'm sorry, Bella._

No—I did nothing. I did not touch her, nor did she touch me. But I was close, too close. The Divine intervened when I was frozen with fear.

The whole way home, I block out images I never wanted to see—or maybe I did—and tell myself over and over that I did nothing but sit in her bedroom chair.

I walk into the lobby of my condo, past the front desk, and drag my hand along the wall for balance.

"Good evening, ."

I nod.

"Have a good night, sir."

I turn to attempt an appropriate good night, and see Carlton has a cordless phone in his hand. The lobby is blurry, but that phone, that diamond sharp image of the phone in his hand summons me.

"Carlton, the phone," I demand, stretching out my arm.

"Certainly."

I close my eyes and dial Jasper's number—one of two numbers I could pull from memory even in this state.

"Hello?"

"Jasper, it's Edward." I slump to the floor, against the desk, and tuck my chin, trying to hide my pathetic voice.

"Edward, where are you? I'll come get you."

"No. Don't. I'm home… I'm fine." I begin to beg, "Please tell me, Jasper… tell me how she is. Where is she?"

"Hold on."

He muffles the phone, but Alice's clear voice comes through. It takes excruciating hours to get through these seconds of waiting.

"Bella's fine, Edward."

"Fine?"

_She has moved on._

"Well, not fine. She's spending a lot of time in Forks. She misses you, really misses you, and I think she's working through her own stuff."

"Right… right."

"You have to contact her. Do you want her number there?"

"No. It's okay."

_Thank you, thank you, thank you._

"Edward, maybe I should come over."

"No. I'm going to bed. Thanks, Jasper."

.

.

.

* * *

Sorry about the dot, dot, dot. I thought some of you might enjoy the heart-stop. But no, I did NOT make it a cliffie.

Someday, for those of you who love your angst, what happened between Edward and Victoria in that apartment will appear as an outtake, until then, use your imagination.

A review would be a lovely anniversary present. Just saying.

Love,

Liz x


	34. Dark Night

Dear Readers,

In case you missed it, I posted the Victoria x Edward outtake titled, 'Lion's Den' a few days ago. You can find it under chapter Twenty-three of the Teaser Outtake story (on my profile). Some thought it was VERY angsty, some thought, 'not so bad.' Give it a try.

Thank you to the lovely group of women: **xoEMC**, **orangeapeal, ****Sunshine**** (aka****TessUderground )**who beta-ed this chapter,and** robsjenn.**

**Please stay tuned for a quick author's note at the bottom. **

**Angst? Not THAT bad. **

**.**

**.**

* * *

Chapter Thirty-four  
Dark Night

.

.

I peel my sticky boxers off of my body and drop them in my overflowing bathroom hamper.

I can't recall my dreams anymore, and I take it as a good thing.

The memories of last night at Victoria's flash in my mind, short painful shocks I feel throughout my body, I wish I could wipe away.

As I reach for the shower faucet, I hear a pounding on the door downstairs.

"Edward, it's Jasper. Open up, buddy."

Pulling on jeans, I run downstairs and unlock my door.

Before he can take a step inside, I grab him in a tight hug, crushing the brown paper bag he is holding between us.

"Okay, okay, Edward. It's just breakfast."

I laugh and break my hold on him. The worry in his face tells me his humor is for my benefit.

"Bagels? OJ?"

"Yes, please. Thank you."

Jasper walks into the kitchen as I go into the laundry room searching for the cleanest t-shirt I can find.

When I walk back out, he slaps the breakfast bar and tells me to take a seat.

I use the paper towel he placed down as a napkin to blow my nose, and watch him wash two plates and glasses for our breakfast.

"That was some phone call last night."

He glances at me and I nod before using the heels of my hands to rub away my headache.

Words dance on my tongue, pleading for release, and I let them go. "Jasper… I'm… I'm not doing too good."

He abandons the dishes and faces me.

"I know, Edward, and I'm so so sorry."

"You're sorry?"

"I thought, I don't know, that tough love approach worked in the past. But…"

"Please don't take blame, I can't take anymore guilt."

"No guilt, Edward…" Jasper tilts his head, with eyes of concern, he sees me for who I am in this moment. "Did something happen last night?"

"Yes. I went home with that redhead from Kell's, Victoria."

His lips part. There is no impassive therapist's expression. He is shocked and I somehow feel comfort that he is.

"Edward, did you… did you sleep with her?"

"No, no, no. I didn't touch her. Wait that's not true." My lies and reality separate—water and oil. "I did touch her. I touched her ankles, and knees, one hand touched her thigh…"

"Okay, Edward, but you didn't sleep with her?"

"No… and I didn't kiss her."

"Alright, alright. You got out of there and that's what's important. Hang onto that, alright, Edward."

"I almost didn't."

"But you did." His voice is forceful, convincing… but…

"Are you going to tell Alice?"

"Fuck no. Why would I do that?"

_Oh, thank God. _

I reach for a plate, but Jasper stops me. _  
_

"Edward, you're shaking."

I hold out my hand and see the tremble—it's not the first time in recent memory.

"It's nothing. Low blood sugar, you know… hung over."

He pours me a glass of orange juice. "Here, you need to drink and eat while I think."

Jasper disappears into my office for a few minutes and returns with pen and paper.

While I eat, he makes notes and asks the occasional question.

"When was the last time you saw Sparrow?"

"I don't know. I missed at least one appointment, maybe more." My honesty with him feels so freeing.

"That's fine. I think you should see someone else anyway. I'm going to make you an appointment with someone new."

"Really, Jasper, I think I'll freak starting with someone new right now."

"Yes. Good point. At least Sparrow knows your history."

After breakfast, Jasper sends me upstairs to take a shower.

I come down to find he is on the last of several phone calls.

He goes through the list with me:

-Contractors come at noon to fix the holes and paint my walls back to white.  
-At four, a cleaning team will come in and do everything, including my laundry.  
-I have an appointment with Sparrow tomorrow morning—the soonest he could take me.  
-I am to have dinner tonight with Jasper at his place.

I notice no mention of Alice for dinner, and I'm sure she isn't ready to see me. Can't say I blame her.

"I have appointments all day, Edward. I'd like you to come to the office with me."

"No, I'll be alright."

"I don't think I want you alone."

I laugh, feeling lighter already. "Really, I'm good. I'll feel better if I accomplish something on my own today."

"How about a doctor's appointment?"

I give him a quizzical look.

"You need something for that cold."

"Nah, what is he going to do? It's just a cold. I'll pick up something at the drug store."

"Fine, I'll let you win on this one," he says with his characteristic smirk. "Oh, and tonight, I want you to call Carlisle from my place."

"Carlisle? Has he been in touch with you?" I wince.

"Yes, he has. He's worried, that's all. We're all worried, Edward."

I nod as he grabs his coat and heads for the door. I've put everyone through so much. A bubble of emotion rises in my chest.

"Jasper, wait…" I walk around the bar to where he's standing. Feeling small, I shove my hands in my pockets and search for the words. "I know I'm not a really good friend to you, Jasper, but someday… I hope…"

He throws his arms around me, crushing his chest to mine. He speaks in my ear with emotion I've never heard from his voice, "Listen to me, Edward. You are the best friend anyone could hope for. The best person I've ever known. You're my brother. You are going through some serious grieving right now. We'll get through it. "

"Thank you. I love you, Jasper," is all I can manage to get out, my words racing against my tears, daring to spill.

We break our hold and he asks again if I want to join him at the office.

"Thank you, but no. I'm going to be productive today."

"I'll see you tonight?"

"Definitely."

~0~

I walk past Kell's with a bag of every cold medicine the pharmacy carried. As I peer inside the window, I see the place is empty with the exception of Riley setting up the bar.

There are a several hours until dinner, and Riley has put up with a lot of my shit, so I head on in to make amends.

"Hey, Edward."

"Hi, Riley." Like a good bartender, he greets me without judgment.

"The usual?"

"No. Just coffee, please."

"Sure." He can't hide the relief in his voice.

He pours me coffee and says quietly, "I tried stopping her last night."

_Fuck, he knows. I don't know what to do… play it off?_

"I mean… I saw you leave, and I could tell Victoria was going after you."

"Yeah, well…" I shrug.

"A bartender is like a vault. You don't have to worry about me saying anything, Edward."

"Thanks, Riley, but honestly, nothing happened."

"It didn't…?" He examines my face for a second, then relaxes. "Oh, thank God."

"You believe me, don't you?"

"Yeah. Bartenders—we're vaults and lie detectors. It's in our blood."

Riley excuses himself and heads to the back for a minute.

I have so many apologies to make, it overwhelms me.

When Riley comes back out, I try to apologize to him, but he waves me off and tells me horror stories about his worst customers.

The bell above the door rings, grabbing my attention.

_Holy shit, Carlisle. _

"Riley! How are you?" He removes his leather gloves and gives Riley a hearty shake from across the bar.

"Hi, Reverend."

"Riley, you know to call me Carlisle."

I can't believe what I'm seeing. Carlisle has been here maybe once or twice that I know.

_Oh,__ shit, __this __is __a __set__up._

"Edward, I was hoping I'd bump into you." He slaps my back, and takes the seat next to me.

"Hi, Carlisle."

_Fuck, I'm just a few hours away from calling him, too. _

"What will you have, Carlisle?" Riley asks, placing a coaster in from of him.

"How about a brandy? Something to warm me up. I've been out Christmas shopping all morning."

"You got it."

I gesture to Riley to put it on my tab.

"So, how have you been, Edward?" Carlisle's jovial performance is so bad it makes me squirm.

"I'm okay… I, um, I was going to call you tonight."

"Ahh. Well… nice I ran into you then, huh?"

_He doesn't believe me, and why should he?_

"Mmm-hmm." I'm sixteen again and ashamed.

"We've missed you around campus—church too."

"Yeah, I know. I… um… I've been missing a lot of things lately."

"I see that."

Riley brings Carlisle's brandy and I consider ditching the coffee for something stronger.

"Well, Edward. The advisor in me needs to get you to schedule classes for next semester."

I start to fidget, touching my face, pulling my hair… _Fuck, __I __should __have __called __him._

"Yeah, well, about that, Carlisle… I don't think I'm coming back next semester."

"Hmm." He swirls his snifter and takes a sip.

"You know, like what we talked about… not really my calling."

"Well, you could always keep yourself busy with the non-ordination track. The classes seem to interest you."

"True," I say, but sitting in class discussing the nature of divinity is the last thing I can do right now.

"It will give you something to do while you wait to hear about graduate programs."

"Mmm-hmm." I glance at him again. Studying mental health is the second to last thing I can do right now.

"Or… Esme could really use you back at the office. She's been swamped."

"She has?"

"Yep. Good for business though, right?" He slaps my back again, trying so hard.

"Right. Yeah, yes, I'll be happy to help her."

"Good, good. I'll let her know."

"Carlisle," my voice shakes, "I know I've been a real fuck up… mess up lately. But really, I was going to call tonight. Jasper came over this morning, he's helping me pull things together."

He regards me for a long time. I hope he believes me.

"Edward, I'd be happy to help, too."

"I know. Thank you."

Until this moment, I didn't know why I had been avoiding him, more so than anyone else, but now I understand. He is the father I've disappointed. The man who had great hopes for me, and I've failed to fulfill each one.

We sit in silence together as he finishes his drink. Then he turns to me and says, "I'll pick you up at six on Friday."

_I don't understand. _

"Friday, Edward?"

"Friday?"

"Friday is Christmas Eve, Edward."

_Oh. _

"Okay, right. You don't have to pick me up. I'll be there. Six? I'll be there at six."

Picking up his shopping bags, he stands and says in a stern tone, "I prefer to pick you up."

"Are you sure, I can drive…"

"Edward, you have rejected every attempt I have made to reach out to you. I have tried to give you the space you seem to want, but I cannot risk you breaking my wife's heart on Christmas."

It's a well-deserved blow.

"Yes, sir." I try to meet his eyes like the man I want to be. "I'll be ready at six."

"I know you will." He wraps his arm around my shoulder and kisses the top of my head. "Take care of yourself, son."

"Thank you."

I spend the afternoon wandering aimlessly around Pioneer Square, searching for Christmas presents. Finally, I notice the wreaths and red velvet bows marking the season. I look at the jewelry store window display where I had my mother's ring replicated for Her.

The masochist, or maybe it is the man, in me decides to go in and claim the ring. Jewelry cases line the walls of the store. Gold, diamonds, and platinum sparkle under the glass and well-focused lights. I walk a few steps in, and scan the store looking for an available clerk.

My eyes land on the glint of a metal wheel in the corner of the store… a woman with short black hair, next to the wheelchair… _Alice._

I turn to leave when a man calls out, "Mr. Masen, it's nice to see you again."

I freeze.

"Edward? Is that you?" Alice says, halting my escape.

I turn around to find her wide-eyes and gentle smile, not the fierce expression I had anticipated. I nod to the clerk and he walks into a back room.

"Alice," I say smiling and walking towards her. "You're standing?"

"A little bit at a time," she says sitting back in the chair. "I hope to be walking by Christmas." Seeing her reminds me of selfishness, the lack of effort I've put into my own transformation.

Alice is my lesson.

"Walking by Christmas? Who are you, Tiny Tim?"

Alice laughs and grabs my hand, then mocks offense. "That's not a height crack, is it Masen?"

"Absolutely not… I have to say, though, I had no idea just how tiny you were."

"I prefer _petite_."

_She's smaller than her roommate. _

"Petite with a huge personality."

Alice rubs her thumb over my knuckles and tells me she is Christmas shopping for Jasper.

"Let me show you something," she says, and I don't care what she says or shows me, as long as she keeps smiling up at me.

A woman behind the counter pulls out a pair of blue topaz cuff links from the case.

"Mmm." Alice holds them in her hands, and turns them in the light to see the facets. "I think they match his eyes. Do you think he'll like them?"

"He'll love them, Alice."

"I'll take them."

As the woman takes the cuff links away, Alice brings our linked hands to her mouth and presses a kiss to the back of my hand. Closing her eyes, she kisses me twice more.

_I thought she hated me. Or, at the very least, would give me a hard time. _

"Alice… why are you being nice to me?"

Though she isn't surprised by the question, her simple answer catches me off guard.

"Because I love you, Edward."

Before I can respond, the first clerk is back with a back velvet ring box saying, "Your ring, Mr. Masen."

He opens the box, and I look away.

"Oh, my," Alice whispers. "Is that what I think it is?"

"You like it?"

I keep my eyes focused on her face, instead of the ring. Her gaze shifts back and forth between the ring and my eyes.

"It's stunning." Alice's eyes fill with tears.

Without looking, I snatch the ring box out of his hand, snapping it shut. "Here, Merry Christmas, Alice," and I hand her the ring.

Pressing her lips together, she shakes her head, and pushes the ring box into my palm and closes my fingers around it.

"Don't be ridiculous, Edward. You're going to need this ring someday."

It has been a day of honesty, and I have no intention of stopping. "I don't think so Alice. I think our window has closed… Really, I want you to have it."

I try to place it back in her hands but they fly up, palms facing me.

"No way. I don't want another woman's ring."

I smile and shake my head at her dramatic display. "Alice… really…"

She tilts her head. "Oh, Edward. Poor bunny… with this horrible beard," she reaches up and gives a gentle tug at the whiskers on my chin, "where has your faith gone?"

"I don't know where it went, Alice, but I'm certain it's gone."

Her expression is woeful for a moment, then a small smile curls in the corner of her mouth. "Mmm… I once lost hope, when I needed it the most. A very dear man came to me—a man of faith. He had so much, he could share it with me and not deplete his supply. He brought light to my dark night."

I keep my eyes down, close to tears for the third time today.

"I have enough faith for both of us, my dear friend."

"Thank you, Alice," I croak out, pushing the words from my closing throat.

Her smile widens, "I've been ditched for dinner. Let's shop and grab a bite."

I laugh. "I um… I think I'm the reason you've been ditched."

"I thought it might be you," she narrows her eyes. "Well, may I join you two for dinner?"

"Please."

"First, shopping."

"Good. I could use your help."

"Shopping help? You came to the right woman."

We stroll from shop to shop and I finally find the nerve to say, "Alice I know you and Jasper are on an information embargo—I'm not supposed to get any news, but… is she okay?"

"Good question. I think so."

"You don't know? Is she hiding again?"

"A bit. She spends all her time in Forks, maybe comes back one day a week. Jasper and I will be there in a few days."

_I remember the plans we once had, Carlisle, Esme, all of us, spending Christmas in Forks. It seems so long ago. _

"When she does come back here… how does she look?"

Alice tips her head back, peering up at me.

"I don't mean is she…"

"I know what you mean. You want to know if she is eating?"

"Yes."

"I think so. Yes."

"Good."

I look over at Alice's face, and I can tell she is holding something back.

"Alice…? Is she sick?"

"You know, Edward. Bella has had a pretty crazy couple of months."

I stop wheeling her and walk to the front of the chair. It feels like the most important request I've ever made, "Please tell me."

Alice hesitates before giving in, "The last time she was home… I think, maybe… I smelled bleach in the bathroom."

_Her method of covering up when she's been sick._

"Thank you for letting me know."

I walk behind her chair again.

My jaw tightens as I sift through a myriad of emotions—two rivaling voices speak above all others, splitting me in two:

_My Bella, my love, how much more can you take? _

_Good, she's sick. And she said she didn't need you. She gets what she deserves. Maybe her boyfriend, Doc, can take care of her. _

The realization is so clear, it make me lightheaded. I grip the handles of Alice's chair. The monster inside of me is killing everyone in his path—any chance of love.

_Blood thirsty. _

The more I feed him, the stronger he becomes. He must be destroyed.

"Edward, are you okay?"

"Yeah."

I start to wheel the chair again.

"Alice. I'm not ready to call her… I have a lot to think about first. Will you tell her I asked about her, though?"

"Yes, Edward. I will."

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

A/N: I will post again at the end of the week. I have to focus on finishing the J x A outtake for my friend and those of you who donated—thank you!

I think I responded to all of the HEA questions; if I missed yours, please ask again.

Also (shameless plug) She Gives Me Religion is up for **The**** Lemonade ****Stand****'****s** **Fic ****of ****the ****week.** I'm thrilled. You can vote for up to five stories you like, and I hope SGMR is among them. **Voting ****ends ****tomorrow**** (YIKES!)**-and I would love your support. The link should appear on my profile soon, or you can try http:/tehlemonadestand (dot) blogspot (dot) com/ (Just put periods where those 'dots' are.)

Love to know what you think.

Liz x


	35. To Love

Hello All!

I have much to be thankful for:

1-Your patience as I navigated strep throat for the holidays and worked on this chapter. (Visiting family—I cannot write until each one goes to bed. Of course, they have NO idea.)

2-Your kind support (and votes) for inclusion in The Lemonade Stand's Fic of the Week!

3-**Lynn Pepper's** review for the story on TLS that blows me away (link on my profile page).

4-**Chele's** selection of SGMR for one of the best fics of the year on Perv Pack Smut Shack (link also on my profile page). You've supported me from the beginning and I am so very grateful.

It sincerely overwhelms me that you are all still giving this story praise. Thank you so very much!

Thanks to the usual suspects, especially both **Sunshine** (aka Tess_Underground) and **xoEMC** for their pre-reads and edits.

Warning: Is sad the same as angst? Hmm… you decide.

This chapter goes out to **Lynn** and **Chele**.

* * *

From Chapter Thirty-four:

_The realization is so clear, it makes me lightheaded. I grip the handles of Alice's chair. The monster inside of me is killing everyone in his path—and any chance of love._

_Blood thirsty. _

_The more I feed him, the stronger he becomes. He must be destroyed. _

"_Edward, are you okay?"_

"_Yeah." _

_I start to wheel the chair again._

"_Alice. I'm not ready to call her… I have a lot to think about first. Will you tell her I asked about her, though?"_

"_Yes, Edward. I will." _

* * *

_._

_._

Chapter Thirty-five  
To Love

.

.

.

I show up to Sparrow's the next morning twenty minutes early. The moment I enter his office, I start talking… spewing every thought that comes into my mind:

The teenage monster

The night under the bed, watching the shadows under the door

Bella

Bella

Bella…

I don't even realize we've gone two hours when he starts to wrap things up.

"Edward, what do you want more than anything else in this world?"

"Bella's happiness." The answer comes immediately, without thought.

"More so than your own?"

_Good question. My initial response is yes…_

"Do I have to choose?"

"You tell me."

"I'm… I'm really fucked up, Dr. Sparrow, you know that… I don't want to pull her down this well."

"You've done a pretty good job climbing out of the well today. I have two hours set aside tomorrow, if you are interested."

"Yes, please."

"Let's focus more on your parents tomorrow."

"Sure, anything."

And we do. I detail each second of the horrific night, even moments that now seem blurred by my head cold and exhaustion.

At five-fifty, sharp, I'm outside my condo, ready for Carlisle. I have Christmas presents and an overnight bag. The suit I bought for the funeral three months ago hangs on me, but I still look better than I have in weeks.

Carlisle pulls up and gets out of his car to greet me. It's a warm hug and a sincere, "Thank you, Edward."

"No, Carlisle, thank you."

We drive to the restaurant, picking up Esme along the way.

I get out and open the car door for her.

"Hi, sweetheart." She holds my face in her hands, then tilts my head down so she can kiss my forehead. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too." _Mom._

We head out for our traditional Christmas Eve: dinner out, church, and back to the house, where I'll build a fire and Esme will make the best hot chocolate in the world, with melted bars of dark chocolate.

As Carlisle pulls away, I ask for reassurance, "Did you get the chocolate?"

Esme turns to me and reaches her hand to the back seat, squeezing my knee. "Of course. What's Christmas without family tradition?"

_My family. _

Since I have nothing to report from my own life, I spend dinner asking questions and getting caught up on the business and the seminary. Life has gone on as I've lain in bed.

While we walk to the front doors to church, I get a sinking feeling in my stomach. I knew this would be the hardest part. It's like I'm going to a party hosted by Carlisle's friend, a former friend of mine—a friend whom I've disregarded as I've been unable or unwilling to trust our bond, and yet, He keeps inviting me to His House.

We enter as a family, making small talk with other friends of the church. Carlisle leads us to a pew towards the front of the church. I get a sense he is happy to be a receiver of The Message tonight, instead of the transmitter. Our friend Benjamin will lead the service.

I sit between Carlisle and Esme. Closing my eyes, I breathe deeply, feeling God's presence in the air. Being here makes ignoring Him impossible.

Throughout the service, I try to hold it together, separating myself and counting the minutes until I can be alone with my conflicting thoughts—or until I can busy myself away from thinking about anything.

Surreptitiously, I glance at Carlisle's watch trying to determine how many minutes remain.

_We're almost done. _

"Friends, I'd like to end our Christmas Eve service with a somewhat unconventional prayer for the season," Benjamin says. "It is easy to lose sight of the purpose of Christmas when our economic times are so very difficult. When we feel like we've let down our loved ones, our children, because we haven't been able to fulfill their wishes in the way we think they might want. That expensive new video game, that promise to replace a broken appliance… or the request to come home from the office earlier, the gift of time."

Carlisle stretches his arm past my back and holds onto Esme's shoulder. She takes my hand in hers and tilts her head to me.

"I hope our departing prayer reminds us to move our attention from our own needs and guilt, our inadequacies—and that our greatest gifts can not be measured in dollars or minutes. The Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi."

_I drop my head and listen to him say the prayer I know by heart. Each word is like a droplet of water breaking down the last of my walls._

_Lord,_ _make me an instrument of your peace,  
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;_  
_where there is injury, pardon;  
where there is doubt, faith;  
where there is despair, hope;  
where there is darkness, light;  
where there is sadness, joy;_

_O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;  
to be understood as to understand;  
to be loved as to love._

_For it is in giving that we receive;  
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;  
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life._

_Dear Lord_, _I hear your message. Please hear my prayer. Save me from myself. _

It is Esme's hand on my shoulder that breaks me out of contemplation.

Late in the evening, back at the house, Carlisle puts out the fire as I wash the small pools of melted chocolate in the bottom of the mugs.

"Everyone to bed," Esme says, "we can't be awake when Santa comes."

I find some stationary in the desk drawer of my bedroom. I scribe a few lines on a card and place it in the envelope, hoping to better my Christmas offerings.

A large gulp of Nyquil and I crawl into bed.

_Good night, Bella. _

Before I turn off the lights, I hear a tap at my door.

"Edward, are you decent?" Esme asks, which makes me smile.

"Come on in."

I scoot over to the edge of the bed, giving her space to sit.

"I heard you coughing, so I figured you weren't asleep yet."

"Yeah. My cold has moved to my chest. Hope I don't keep you up."

"Hm. Nyquil," she says picking up the bottle, "good stuff." She tilts her head, with a motherly sympathy in her eyes. "Have you heard from Bella?"

"No. She's been in Forks a lot. Jasper and Alice are there now."

"Have you called her?"

I press my lips together, feeling ashamed, and shake my head.

"Esme… I feel like… I have this idea. Maybe I need to go away for a while."

"You've been away, Edward."

"I know, but… I need to… transform. You know, go away for a year, maybe Chicago, and really turn into some other form of myself. I'll come back stronger, mind, body, and spirit. I'll be able to take care of everyone… take care of Bella."

"Mmm." Esme lifts my bangs from my eyes. "And it's your job to take care of everybody?"

I think about her words before I respond.

"I don't bring much to the table." I want to curl into a ball and disappear into the bed.

"Oh, but you do, sweet boy." She shakes her head and continues to stroke my hair. "Edward, your transformation isn't about taking care of everyone, it's about taking care of yourself… Do you know what I mean?"

"I think so."

"You'll have to figure out how to transform while you're still here, Edward."

I nod my head and pull the sheets up higher to my chest, to protect my heart. "I've tried not to think about Bella, but it's… impossible."

"Hmm… Edward, love isn't always gentle or kind—it can be a wrecking ball, tearing down our walls."

"I haven't called Bella, but she hasn't called me either. What if she doesn't want me anymore?"

"You want her and you didn't call. Maybe Bella's learning to take care of herself. Give her the benefit of the doubt and we'll hope she does the same. Okay?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Mom."

Her brows shoot up.

"I'm sorry, Esme. It was a slip… I…"

"Oh, no. It's fine. I understand." There is a trace of hurt in her face.

"Truthfully, I call you Mom in my mind all the time, but I…"

"Edward, you have a mother, no one else can take that name."

"Okay, Esme, this is going to sound ridiculous… and I don't know what you'll think… " I roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling, "but sometimes, in my head, I call you…" I cringe as I say it, "Esmom."

"Esmom?" She laughs softly and I peek over to her.

"I'm sorry… it's…"

"It's lovely. Thank you, Edward… As your Esmom, I have to tell you…" Her expression turns firm, in a way that makes me laugh. She slides her fingers into the front of my hair and pulls it straight up.

"I know. It's long. I need a hair cut and a shave."

She lets my hair fall. "I'm more concerned about getting food in you, skinny boy."

"I know. I'm looking forward to your cooking tomorrow."

She smiles and heads to the door.

"Get some sleep, Edward."

"You too, Esmom."

With a wink and an uncontrollable smile, she pulls my door closed.

Christmas morning is long and lazy—as it should be. We lounge in pajamas with coffee, scones and a crackling fire until it approaches noon. Carlisle stretches out on the floor next to the couch Esme is seated on and I sit across from them on the loveseat. The food lies heavily in my stomach as we take our time unwrapping presents.

I give Esme a cashmere sweater. It's expensive, beautiful, and uninspired.

I hand Carlisle a box holding two heavy linen oxfords and an assortment of Robert Talbott hand sewn ties. He acts like they are the best gifts in the world, but I know they fail to communicate what I really feel.

Relieved for my last minute inspiration, I pass the card I wrote last night to Esme, who relays the message to Carlisle.

"A second honeymoon?"

"Anywhere you two want to go. You've mentioned Rio before."

"Edward, I don't know what to say," Carlisle says looking to Esme with an expression I hope to have again someday.

"You two never travel and I know it's because you're so busy. I can cover for both of you while you're gone. Esme, I can handle your accounts, and Carlisle, I can take care anything you need at the seminary."

Carlisle reaches over to Esme, grabbing her hand, and looks over to me. "Thank you, Edward."

"One more present," Carlisle says, and walks to the tree, retrieving a small box hidden in the back.

The pile of presents next to me reaches my hip, what more can there be? I look to Esme, who shrugs and playfully looks away.

Carlisle hands me the box and sits on the couch with Esme. He looks nervous, but she's quite content.

I unwrap the small, heavy box and pull open the lid. It's a pocket watch—pewter, I think. It's beautiful.

"Turn it over, Edward," Esme tells me.

On the back, it is inscribed:

_Sons are a heritage from the Lord,  
children a reward from him._

"Psalm - Chapter 127:3," I say looking up at them. I'm speechless.

"It was my father's," Carlisle says, his eyes glistening with tears. "He had it engraved and passed it to me. And now I'm passing it on to you, son."

There is no stopping the tears I've held back for the past week. The best I can do is to quickly wipe them away with the back of my hand.

"Thank you. I'll treasure it always."

Carlisle and Esme come to sit on either side of me, as I continue to try to laugh off my display, and try to joke about throwing away my wristwatch, which I am sure makes no sense to Esme and Carlisle.

I twist first to hug Carlisle, who tells me I'm going to be alright. "You're coming through a hard time right now, Edward, but things are turning around."

I nod and thank him before turning to Esme. She hugs me then holds my face and presses her lips to my forehead. "Edward, sweetheart, you're so warm."

"I am?" I pull away and wipe the last of my tears.

"Yes." She pulls my head down and presses her lips again.

"You don't feel well, do you?" Her voice drips with sympathy, like she's talking to a sick little boy.

I shake my head and almost start to cry again.

"Edward, you have a fever. You need sleep… and food… we'll take care of you."

In this moment, I think it's the best thing anyone has ever said to me.

"Why don't you go back up to bed?" she says.

I nod and pull myself from the couch, feeling lightheaded as I stand. I bend over to pick up my boxes, and nearly fall over.

Carlisle stands, and steadies me. "Don't worry about the presents. Go sleep, we'll check in on you in a bit."

"Okay."

I don't know how long I've been asleep when I hear Esme knock on the door, but it is dark outside and the house smells of rich food.

"Hi, Edward," she comes in and places a cool glass of water and two aspirin on the bedside table.

"Morning," I say before breaking into a coughing fit that makes me feel like my skull is shattering.

"Morning…? I wish we could find a doctor on Christmas."

"Nah. It's just the flu. It will pass soon."

"You're still warm," she says as she feels my head with the back of her cool hand. "Don't suppose beef wellington sounds too appetizing."

I smile up at her. "Sorry."

"Okay. Close your eyes. I'm going to bring you some soup."

"Don't go to any trouble."

"No trouble at all."

I must fall back to sleep because she's back immediately with a bowl of chicken soup and a cold washcloth for my head. I'm grateful that she keeps the lights low.

The next thing I know, it is daylight. I'm covered in sweat soaked sheets, and feeling like myself again.

_The fever broke. _

I make my way downstairs and scarf down a leftover scone. There's a note on the kitchen table; they went to church and didn't want to wake me.

I look at the clock and realize I have time for a shower, to straighten up, and build a fire.

When they return, I try to recapture what I missed of Christmas. I play Esme's favorite carols on the piano. We reheat the leftovers and they tell me stories of things I said to them when they checked on me.

"Carlisle, I don't even remember you in my room."

"Really? How about Elvis?"

"Elvis…? Okay, now you're just making this up."

"No, no. You called me The King and told me to get out of your house."

"The King? You're kidding. I'm sorry, Carlisle."

"Don't be. We were worried last night, but now it's quite humorous."

"Did we tell you about the Rolls Royce?" Esme asks.

I roll my eyes, wondering what other nonsense I hallucinated. "What did I say?"

"Well, you had a lot to say about a Rolls Royce, but we couldn't figure out a single word. You were mumbling, completely out of it."

"A Rolls Royce?" I ask. "That's not like me. I'd never get a…" I stop talking when a violent feeling of déjà vu smacks me in the chest.

"What is it, Edward?" Carlisle asks.

I shake my head, lost in thought as I try to piece together the memory. I thought I had it… but it's gone. "Nothing… I… it's familiar. Maybe I remember you in my room."

"Edward, are you sure you won't stay another night? We don't want you to relapse."

Though Esme tries to convince me to stay another night, I decide to go back to the condo. I have an appointment with Sparrow in the morning, and there is a great deal to consider. They send me home with a grocery bag full of food, and on the way home, I stop to pick up of a few bottles of Pedialyte.

The condo is quiet.

It's good to have the place clean and painted, but now that it looks they way it did Her absence is more obvious.

I put away the groceries and open a bottle of Pedialyte. I glance at the wine glasses, remembering the first time Bella came to the condo, and choose a regular tumbler instead.

I take my drink with me and walk to the large window in the living room. As I look at my reflection, I remember the one I prefer—my arms around Bella as we looked out onto the water.

It is as if I can see her now, wine glass of Pedialyte in her hand—to appease me, I'm sure—her eyes dancing over the reflection staring back at us. Neither of us looked at the water that night; we were the vision to behold. I wanted that picture to last forever, but it all got confused along the way.

_What the fuck happened? _

_O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be loved as to love._

I miss you, Bella. I miss you so much. Please come back.

_Lord, guide me._

Lying in bed, I close my eyes and play out the Christmas I hope she had. It is a joyful vision—Bella in her flannel pajamas opening presents with Charlie, Sue, Alice and Jasper.

I hope she ate a huge Christmas dinner.

I wonder if she cooked; what she cooked. Lasagna? Whatever it was, I'm sure it was from scratch.

I hope she was happy.

I hope she thought of me, fondly.

"Good night, my love," I whisper as I roll over and fall off to sleep.

.

"I want Bella back," are the first words I say to Sparrow as I walk into his office.

"And if she's moved on?" He asks before I sit down.

"Well… I've thought about that. If she's happy, then she's happy. But I'll never know if she wants me unless I ask, right?"

"You're making sense, Edward."

Because of Bella's need to process things on her own and my defensiveness, Sparrow and I decide on a letter.

I'm sent home with the task of putting my feelings on paper.

The irony isn't lost on me; now my therapist is giving me homework.

As I turn the key in the ignition, I'm already feeling anxious about the daunting task. I stop at the library and take out several books of poetry—Keats, Byron, Dickinson—and some anthologies of 'love poems.' If I can't find my own words, maybe I can borrow them from the greats.

Feeling too queasy for coffee, I grab a Pedialyte from the fridge and go to my office. On a pad of paper, I write:

_Dear Bella, _

I scratch it out.

_Dear Isabella, _

And then again…

_Dear Bella,_

_I miss you. _

I stare at the page for a long time.

Really, I'm not sure what else to write.

The books of poetry do me no good. I flip through page after page to find clichés or poems that I fear I'm misinterpreting.

The words begin to blur.

I push away from my desk and stand, immediately needing to sit back down.

_Oh, no. _

I grab the Pedialyte and slowly lift myself from the chair again.

_A quick nap—that's all I need. Don't want to push it too soon. No relapses. _

It takes great effort to walk up the stairs.

I crawl into bed and pull the covers over me, trying to thaw my chilled bones.

Just a little nap…

…I wake… I think…

and fall back to sleep.

_Where am I?_

Between heaven and hell, but much closer to hell.

I open one eye to bright daylight and see the bedside table is covered in half-filled glasses of water. I don't remember getting a single one.

_The cold medicine is downstairs, but I cannot move_. It hurts to lift my head, to roll on my stomach… to breathe.

My cough makes my eyes tear. I reach for a wad of toilet paper on the bedside table—it holds the contents of my lungs.

_Please, God, let me sleep some more. _

I fall again…

_Thank you, Jesus..._

Blankets twisted around me pull me awake.

I kick them away with achy legs.

_Must pee. _

Rolling to my side, my feet find the floor, and I make it to the bathroom.

_The worst is over. Get downstairs—medicine, some food. _

Dragging the duvet behind me, I go downstairs.

It's dark outside.

I need to eat something.

I guzzle down a glass of cold water and grab a bottle of Pedialyte. From the kitchen cabinet, I take a sleeve of saltines.

The saltines, Pedialyte, paper towels, and duvet come with me to the living room.

I can't help to smile at my predicament, laughing would hurt my head.

_No couch, no handkerchiefs_. Two reminders gone and now I blow my nose with paper towels and curl up on a chair, and yet She is all I think about.

_Good thing you can't see me like this, Bella. I'm a fucking mess. _

_I just need a little more sleep and I'll be fine… _

"Edward…? Edward, baby. Wake up."

"Bella?"

I open my eyes and see the shadowy figure of Bella, in a bra and underwear, standing in front of the fireplace.

"Bella, you're here?" I'm not sure if I speak out loud or just think it, but she responds.

"You never got to see this pair of panties. I wanted to wear them for you."

"Thank you. That's very considerate."

"They have a skirt."

"I know. I really liked that pair. They're red."

I wish I could see her better, but now there is a fire roaring—so bright, so hot—I can't see her face.

"Do you want me to dance for you, Edward?"

"Yes. Please."

Bella turns and turns. The skirt flares up and the material shines in the light of the flames. Her skin glows.

"So pretty."

"Thank you."

"Come here, Bella. I want to kiss you." I reach out my arm to her and she walks to me.

"Edward, you need to do something for me." Her voice is suddenly deep and urgent.

"What's wrong, love?"

"Edward, you have to call Esme. Do it now."

I still can't see her face.

"I don't have a phone."

"You are very sick. You must call her. You need a doctor. Go downstairs and use the phone."

She sounds almost angry. It's so hot in here. I'm burning up.

"Edward… do you hear me?" She starts to pull at my hands, but she can't budge me. I'm so confused. "Call Esme. Do it now!"

"Stay with me."

"Edward… Edward…"

This can't be real… but it feels so real.

"Edward, Edward… I know you are in there. At least, I think you are. No one has seen you in days…"

Her voice is real.

_Holy shit!_

My eyes snap open and I look around. It's day, bright. I no longer ache…

"So, if you _are_ in there and you don't want to open the door…"

_Dear Jesus, Bella is here. _

Sometime during the night, I stripped down to my boxers.

_What day is this? _

I pull the duvet around me and go to the door...

Fuck, I can't open it. Not like this.

FUCKFUCKFUCK!

I open my mouth in a silent scream. The duvet drops to the floor and I dig my hands in my hair.

"I know we're going to be in each other's lives for a long time…"

I hang on each tentative word.

"…after all, I think our best friends are in love."

She laughs in that forced way she does to mask her sadness.

"So, I think we need to get together to talk… about us… about anything… because I really l-love talking to you."

Bella sniffles and my heart contracts.

I reach for the doorknob, but stop myself.

"Are you in there?" It's a whisper.

_I'm here. _

I stand frozen for what feel like an eternity, then a folded slip of paper slides under the door and under the doormat.

So tempted to reach for it, but I wait until I hear the ping of the elevator.

I drop to my knees and pull back the doormat to see not only the note Bella left, but two more.

I read the note she just wrote first:

_Please, please, please, please, please,  
please, please, please, please, please,  
please, please, please, please, please  
call me. _

_I miss you,  
Bella _

It's what I left her when she stayed in Forks after the accident.

The second note is from Jasper:

_Did you leave town again?  
Please call me.  
New Year's Eve, me you and some pizza?_

_-Jasper _

And then the last note:

_I've waited too long.  
There's so much we need to talk about.  
Please call me,  
Bella_

_How long have these been here?_

_Oh, God. _

I jump to my feet and run for the stairs.

-Shower  
-Dress  
-Go after her

My feet trip up the stairs, and I slip down four steps. I'm dizzy and tired, but it doesn't matter; I get into the shower as quickly as I can.

_God, are you with me? Are we good? Can you help? I need your help. _

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

Do you see the light? Do you?

Fingers crossed I can post again on New Year's.

An enormous Thank You to those who donated to the Tammi fundraiser. You will see The Scientist outtake in your inbox tomorrow morning.

Much love and a Happy Holidays,

Liz x


	36. Cold

A/N:

Happy New Year, everyone. Thank you for your response to the last chapter. Yes, there is light!

A few words on **timelines**, **hallucinations**, and **unreliable narrators** (some of this has come up in reviews):

**Time:** At times in the last few chapters, Edward has either been very depressed, sick, or both. He has lost the sense of time, and as your narrator, he has lost many of you, as well. Also, a few chapters ago, Jasper said to Edward that it has been a difficult couple of months for him. Jasper was referring to the last few months since meeting Bella. There have been several conversations between the two of them where Jasper and he talked about the return of PTSD since Bella's arrival in Edward's life. One point in particular is when Edward breaks into his office post Valium-gate. I can see how the comment about the couple of months proved confusing for some of you. Edward and Bella broke up the first week of December.

**Hallucinations:** At this point, we do not know for sure what is real and what is a hallucination, because Edward does not know. I'll give you a hint—Bella was NOT in her underwear at his condo. The truth will become apparent.

**Unreliable Narrators:** From the beginning of the story, Edward has been an unreliable narrator. We are seeing things play out from the perspective of an insecure, at times delusional, avoidant, PTSD sufferer. We are reading HIS perception of the world. The way he interprets people and events are just that, his interpretation. An unreliable narrator is part of the fun, mystery, and sometimes frustration, but it is a key part of the POV journey for the reader.

Thanks to everyone, especially **Sunshine (aka Tess_Underground)** and **Orangeapeal** for pre-reading and editing this chapter.

**Warning**: on a scale of 1-10, the angst in this chapter reaches 12.

.

.

.

.

From Chapter Thirty-five:

_I jump to my feet and run for the stairs. _

_-Shower_

_-Dress_

_-Go after her_

_My feet trip up the stairs, and I slip down four steps. I'm dizzy and tired, but it doesn't matter; I get into the shower as quickly as I can. _

_God, are you with me? Are we good? Can you help? I need your help. _

* * *

Chapter Thirty-six  
Cold

.

.

I loop a belt through my favorite jeans, now too large to stay on my hips.

I'm tired and my brain is foggy, so I keep repeating my singular mission:

_Must go to Bella. God, help me get to Bella. _

The first sweater in the drawer my hand lands on is the one I put on—simple, black.

_Must go to Bella. God, help me get to Bella. _

To put on my shoes, I sit on the edge of my bed. _I'm so tired._ Closing my eyes, I fall back to get a few minutes of rest…

… I open my eyes and look around. It's dark outside. The sour taste in my mouth tells me I've fallen asleep for hours, but at least I feel strong again.

_Must go to Bella. God, help me get to Bella. _

I brush my teeth and curse this unruly beard, but there is no time to shave.

As I run downstairs, I hear a knock on the door.

_Please, God. Maybe she's back. _

I comb my fingers through my hair and take a deep breath as I unlock the bolts on the door that keep me safe.

The doorknob feels cold as I look through the peephole. It is not Bella who stands in the hallway, but another familiar face.

"Detective Jenks?" I ask, opening the door.

"Edward Masen? Boy, you've grown up."

He looks older, but still younger than I imagined he would. His black hair is thinner, but he still has a hard face with compassionate green eyes, and an aquiline nose. He must have been young when he first took my parents' case.

I stand staring at him in the doorway for several moments, remembering my daily trips to see him, and wanting to help him solve the murders, until he called Carlisle to stop me.

"May I come in, Edward?"

"Of course," I mutter, stepping aside to grant him entrance, then walking him to the living room.

"I was going to wait until after the weekend to check in on you—surprised I found you home, to be honest—but I couldn't wait."

_Check on me?_

_This is not a hallucination_, I tell myself. I feel well and clear-minded.

"Detective Jenks, I'm sorry, but I don't know what you are doing here."

He gives me a quizzical look. I'm sure he sees the confusion in my eyes.

"Edward… um, Mr. Masen…"

"Edward, please."

"You do know a woman by the name of Bella Swan?"

_Oh, Jesus._ My knees buckle and I drop to the chair behind me.

"Oh, my God. What happened? Something happened to her?"

"No, no, no…" Immediately he's next to me.

"She's okay?"

"Yes, she's fine. I didn't mean to give you a scare."

I bury my face in my hands and pull myself away from the darkest thought—a wounded Bella… or worse.

"Detective Jenks, please tell me what you are doing here."

He pulls up a chair, and faces me. "When did you last speak with Ms. Swan?"

"I don't know… about a month ago."

"I thought she was coming to see you this week."

_How does he know this? _

"Yes, she did. I mean, she tried, but I've been sick. We didn't talk."

_My head throbs with confusion. _

"I see." He takes a moment, then continues in a detective's tone. "Are you aware that Ms. Swan and her father, Chief Charlie Swan, contacted me a little over two months ago?"

"No."

I concentrate on absorbing everything he tells me.

"Chief Swan asked for the files on your parents' case. I agreed."

I keep my eyes to the floor and nod, urging him to continue.

"In the past month, Ms. Swan has been working to solve your parents' case. She had her father run the bit of evidence we had—the partial fingerprints. I didn't think it would come to anything, but Edward… she found the men who killed your parents."

The wind leaves me and I can barely speak, "What…? Who?"

"It's no one you know. No one from your parents' company," he says, knowing I always suspected them.

"Before your parents' homicides, they were two petty burglars—not even in the system. But a couple of years ago, they had another break-in that also resulted in the homeowner's homicide."

I am now numb. Simply listening to him talk as if I'm hearing it on the television set.

"They are currently serving sentences at NORCO—it's a prison in Oregon… Mr. Masen, are you still with me?"

I meet his eyes and nod.

"Can I get you a glass of water…? Call someone?"

I shake my head, "Please, continue."

"Ms. Swan posed as a law student and was granted an interview."

"What?" I spit out, enraged that she put herself in danger.

"I know. She did this on her own. Neither her father nor I were too pleased. But, I'll hand it to her, she asked exactly what we needed without jeopardizing the investigation. She knew exactly what she was doing."

I stand and begin to pace, unable to digest the vision of Bella sitting across from men who murdered my mom and dad.

"Edward," Jenks stands too, "sit down. I have more to tell you."

Unable to be still, I sit and bounce my knees.

"Three days ago, I got a confession. The case is closed, Edward, it's done."

"It's done…? Will there be a trial?"

"It doesn't look like the DA will bring this to trial. One of the men is weaker, more of an accomplice. He's willing to testify against the other for a reduced sentence. You should know, Ms. Swan watched the interrogation from the observation room. Really, she solved the case…"

Jenks goes on about his guilt and how the case always haunted him, but I can't focus on his confession; I'm still with Bella in my mind.

_That's where you've been, Bella? _

"…Samuel King will likely get a sentence of…"

I'm yanked back into the conversation. "What did you say?"

"Samuel King, he's the accomplice. The man who murdered your parents is…"

"Royce," I breathe.

He falls back into the chair, stunned. "How did you know?"

"I don't know."

It's a truth I've always had, but never knew. Carlisle telling me about my dream—The King, Rolls Royce—so familiar. I begin to cough as I gasp for air and try to fuse together fractured images.

Jenks gets me a glass of water and I drink, think, calm myself, and pray: _Dear God in Heaven, give me my memory. Help me find peace. _

"I have photographs of the men."

He takes out his briefcase, but I stop him.

"No, don't. Please." I stand and begin to pace again, this time allowing myself to fall back away into that night. "I think I remember…"

I look over to Jenks. From his briefcase, he takes out a recorder.

"I was in my parents bedroom, watching TV with them. We heard the crash downstairs…"

It's the same memory I always run from, but somehow different this time.

"My dad grabbed me by my wrist and pulled me into my bedroom. He told me to lock my door and get under the bed. 'Don't make a sound' he said. I got under the bed, but…" I look up to Jenks, now remembering, "I forgot to lock the door."

I swallow and continue, finding the strength to speak. "My eyes kept going from the shadows under the door to the doorknob… waiting for it to open."

In my mind, I remember shoving my fingers between the bed and the wooden slat of the frame, my scars come alive with phantom pain at the memory.

"Oh, Jesus." My mouth drops, and I cover it with my hand.

"What it is."

"He came into my room—I remember now. The doorknob turned, I watched his feet walk to me… he bent down and saw me."

Jenks eyes widen.

"I looked right into his eyes." I put my finger to my lips, gesturing to be quiet, the way he did when he saw me. "He left the room and shut the door. Oh, dear God."

I sit down again, trying to remember more.

"What did he look like?" Jenks asks.

"Large, round face. Blue eyes, blond hair."

Jenks pulls a photo from his briefcase. "Would you like to see him?"

I nod and take the photo. As soon as I glance at it, I know it is he. "King? Samuel King?"

"Yes," Jenks watches me warily.

I look at the second photo. There is no recollection, but looking at the man who killed my parents floors me.

"Did Bella talk to this man?"

"No, Edward."

"Good. Good."

I sit for several minutes trying to remember why I know their names, but I have no other new memories.

"I'm so, so sorry Detective Jenks. I can't remember anything else, and I don't know why I forgot."

I am sixteen again, confused and sad in this man's presence.

"It's okay, Edward. Blocking of memories under such duress is common. You don't have torture yourself anymore, the case is closed."

His words tell me that he knows; he's always known what this did to me.

"I'll be in touch in a few days, but I'd like to call someone for you before I go. Should I call Ms. Swan?"

_Must go to Bella. God, help me get to Bella. _

"I… I…"

_No, not Bella. Not yet. _

"Do you know if the Cullens know about this yet?"

"I believe she was contacting them. Can I call for you?

"No, that's okay. I need a few minutes alone, then I'll call Carlisle."

Detective Jenks stands, but it's clear he's apprehensive about leaving me. I do my best at convincing him that I'm fine, but I am not sure I am.

After he leaves, I pace and pull my hair, as the weight of consequence crushes my bones.

_God in Heaven, what is the purpose of forgetting? _

I think about how my life would have been different. How I could have provided peace for so many. Then I remember that Royce and King went on to kill again.

_Oh, Jesus._

I grab my keys and wallet and, fueled by adrenaline, take the steps downstairs to the lobby.

"Mr. Masen, when did you get back in town?" Carlton asks.

"I've been here," I mutter and ask for the phone.

I dial Carlisle's number and get his voicemail. "Hey, Carlisle, it's Edward… I… we need to talk." I refrain from saying anything specific in case he doesn't know.

I call Jasper next. "Jasper it's Edward, I really need… never mind."

I hang up the phone. I don't want to leave a panicked message. He can't return the call, so I decide to fuck it and go to his place to find him.

As I head to the door, Carlton calls out, "Happy New Year, Mr. Masen."

I stop and turn. "New Year's?"

"Yes, sir. It's New Year's Eve."

"Okay, thanks. You too."

"A coat?" He calls to me, as I break into the nighttime cold.

_No time for a coat. _

Logic has left me. I only need to run—to Jasper, to Bella, to all those who love me and can help me, for I am truly lost.

_Help me, God. _

I run to Jasper's, but find the condo dark and empty.

Searching for a cab proves useless, so I continue on, walking to Bella's. From the street, I can see all of the lights off in there as well.

Feeling weak, I continue to aimlessly walk through the empty, familiar streets of my city, somehow believing that if I stop, the barrage of memories and thoughts assaulting my mind will kill me.

_The Samuel King in my room_

_My mother's cry_

_Bella's face as I set the alarm on my watch…_

So many thoughts slip in and out. I have no way to hold onto any one of them.

I walk along the water until I reach Virginia Street, a few blocks away from my second home.

The noise from the crowd at Kell's reaches the street a full block away.

I walk in to find a maze made of people—bodies packed together, laughing, and talking—I push through, finding a path to get to the bar.

"Edward!" Riley calls out a greeting from behind the bar. He is in a furious dance, making drinks, taking money, tossing out empty bottles of hard alcohol. Others are with him, but this is his big show. I get dizzy just watching his pace. Even if I could get his attention, I don't know what I'd say.

He looks up at me again, never stopping his movements, and yells above the crowd, "You look wrecked. Where've you been?"

"I'm not drunk," I call back, but I don't think he can hear me.

I'm not even sure I know what I'm doing here. I push against the crowd, making my way to my typical seat at the end of the bar. Of course, it's occupied, but I can press my back against the wall and gather myself.

_Okay, Edward, you need to get home. You aren't finding anyone tonight. You need to: _

_-Sleep  
-Call Carlisle and Jasper in the morning  
-Find Bella_

I press the back of my head against the cold wall and close my eyes to shut out the nauseating kaleidoscope of people in front of me. Several times, I swear I fall asleep, only to be awoken again by the sound of a drunken patron's noisemaker.

Someone I don't know presses a glass in my hand. I see Riley encouraging me to drink from behind the bar.

It is cold and sweet—ginger ale. No alcohol, thank God. With each sip, I feel my wilted body strengthening, my mind clarifying. It is enough sugar to carry me the several blocks home.

_Oh, to be transported home. Dear Lord, if there were ever a time for transport…_

I wait, but nothing comes, ensuring that all of this is real.

When my drink is done, I feel like myself again.

Slipping between tight bodies, I find my way to the door. The cold air comes in shards ripping at my face.

_When did it start snowing? _

I take a deep breath that scratches my lungs and cough until I can stand straight again.

One foot in front of the other, I step away from the bar into the dark. The streets are barren with the exception of a few people I can make out walking towards me.

They walk in a straight-line—a wall—two couples.

New Year's Eve is for lovers and I wish I had mine.

They walk as slowly as I do, one with a cane.

"Edward?" Jasper's voice calls to me.

_Jesus, give me strength._ It is Jasper and Alice… and my Bella with another man. I glance at him, but it's not the man I expect, not Jacob, but another.

I straighten up and siphon every atom of energy to aid my performance.

"Hey, gang," I say when we're face to face.

Bella and the man are to my left. I cannot look at them. Instead I keep my eyes on Jasper and Alice.

"When did you get back in town?" Jasper asks, annoyed and confused.

"Um, I don't know," I say, unable to waste energy on questions, unwilling to unravel with the truth. "Look at you, Tiny Tim," I say to Alice with a smile, "you said you would be walking, and look at you now."

"Happy New Year, Edward," her voice is quiet and sympathetic.

"This is my friend from graduate school, Garrett. He's just in town for the weekend," Jasper says, overemphasizing each word. "I invited him to come out with us tonight."

I nod and force a smile, giving a firm handshake. He's tall and handsome, wearing a proper wool car coat, a scarf and gloves. The snowflakes fall to my black sweater and collect on my shoulders.

_He's a real man. An adult. _

"Hi Edward," Bella says tenderly, grabbing my forearm with her gloved hand.

"Hey, Happy New Year, Bella." I avoid her eyes and shove my hands in my pockets.

There is a voiceless moment where the awkward air slices me open for all to see.

"We were going in for a nightcap. It's almost midnight, come with us." Jasper tries to grab my shoulder, but I roll away.

"Nah, thanks. I'm heading home. Good to see you all."

I step to the side, but Jasper side steps with me, blocking my escape.

"I'll walk with you," he says. "I'll meet back up with you all later."

Their response is quick and reeks of artificial zeal.

"No, please. I'm fine. I'll call you tomorrow morning," I grab onto Jasper's upper arm and beg him with my eyes to free me from this moment.

"I can walk you," he says quietly, like we're the only ones here.

"No, but thank you. Tomorrow, I promise." I mutter, "Good night," and walk past the four of them.

I attempt to quicken my stagger when I hear the exchange of words, and then the click, click, click of Bella's heels behind me.

"Edward, wait."

I take a few more steps then stop, because I don't want Bella to run in heels.

She places her hands on my back, and I slowly turn around.

She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Her face is fuller, but still heart-shaped with her adorable pointed chin. Bella's warm brown eyes are even larger than I remember. I watch the wisps of warm breath hit the cold air as her full lips speak quickly.

"I just met him tonight. I swear… they dragged me out. I didn't want to come."

"It's okay," I say, and it is. Now that she is here, I have no care for the man walking with my friends into the bar.

"I… I stopped by a couple of times. I left some notes... I guess you were away." There's pain in her eyes that only I can remedy.

"I miss you, Bella."

She gasps; her eyes soften and I know she still loves me. "I miss you, too."

I can barely speak. It takes everything I have to drink in the vision of her, to listen to her quiet, musical voice.

"You must be freezing," she says and takes off her white scarf, wrapping it twice around my neck.

It is my lifesaver and my noose. I swallow the scent of her—the scent of happier times. Spring with my parents—lily of the valley, hyacinths. My mother's herb garden, rosemary and mint, the smell of fresh cut grass, courtesy of my father… and Bella, clean and pure.

I have no words.

"This looks soft," she says, removing one glove and touching my beard. "It makes your lips look soft."

_Ten, nine, eight…_

We hear the New Year's countdown from the crowds in the bars that line the street.

"We have a lot to talk about," she says, worry returning to her face.

I nod, knowing I need to say something, anything.

_God, give me words. _

_six, five, four…_

I dare to take my hands from my pockets and hold her velvet-soft face.

"Happy New Year, Bella," I whisper.

I lift her chin and lean in close.

"Happy New Year, Edward." Her warm breath washes over me.

_Happy New Year! _ Is shouted from behind the walls around us.

I lick my lips to warm them for her, and press them gently to her supple mouth. She tastes of every happiness I've ever known. Pulling away, I press my forehead to hers and breathe her in again.

_One more… _

I run my hands to her neck, feeling her jaw under my thumbs, and brush my cheek against hers until I find her mouth again. It is a single, soft kiss—just a morsel of her.

Bella's arms reach around me.

_I want one more kiss…_

I suck her bottom lip between my lips and run my tongue back and forth over the smooth, plump skin.

_Is this too good to be real? _

Bella slides her tongue into my mouth and she deepens the kiss, pulling my head closer.

_I want to feel her skin… my salve…_

My fingers fight to untie the belt of her coat.

We are pushing and pulling each other into the alley.

_Just one touch…_

My legs wobble with lust or fever, I no longer know.

She is up against the wall, and I am searching for skin. My hands run around her waist, under her coat, hoping to find the sliver of flesh between skirt and blouse.

"Edward, wait…"

I listen. I stop.

"Your skin…" I say into her ear as I press my hands against the brick wall.

"Edward, you're warm…"

Taking her into my arms, I kiss her again. I am clumsy and dizzy, swaying her with me in the alley.

"We're dancing, Bella," I say, smiling and swinging her in circles with me.

"Baby, we should stop."

I try to stop, but the momentum of the spin is too great.

I stumble and slam my back into something metal. The pain is searing, like an aluminum bat whacked across my ribs.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I fall to the ground, pulling Bella with me.

_A dumpster. I'm leaning against a dumpster. _

I clamp down my jaw, to stop myself from yelling in pain.

_Did I hurt Bella? _

Blinking open my eyes, I see Bella on her knees straddling my stretched out legs.

Her mouth is moving, but I can't make out all of her words over the ringing in my ears.

She pulls her glove off with her teeth. Her hands are on my face—she looks terrified.

"Edward, Edward," she gently slaps my face, making my vision clearer with each touch.

I watch her pat down her coat pockets, then burrow into her purse hunting for something. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip, as I make out her saying, "Fuck, Fuck, Fuck."

She turns her head towards the street, her chest rises with a deep inhale, then she screams for Jasper. The veins in her neck pop as she screams again.

_I'm so cold. _

I haven't felt the cold all night, but now the arctic temperature chills me to my bones.

I find the strength to speak. "Did I hurt you?"

She shakes her head back and forth, her mouth saying, "No." I still can't hear her.

Bella grabs at my arms, touches my face, her hands are everywhere.

"Did I hurt you?" I ask again.

Her eyes fill with tears. _Maybe I did._

Bella holds a finger up and says something with great urgency, but I don't know what it is.

And then she is gone.

I'm alone. I think I hurt my Bella.

I try to stand, but I can't. I scoot myself along the dumpster toward the back of the alley.

_If I hurt Bella, I should hide._

I curl myself into a ball between the dumpster and the brick wall.

The cold pain in my body and heart is so great, that I want to disappear, to die.

"No, you don't."

_That voice. _

I blink several times, disbelieving the sight before my eyes. Sitting across from me with his legs out stretched, dressed in a camel colored wool coat, and a Fedora hat with gloves…

"Dad?"

"Happy New Year, son."

"What are you…"

"You need to get up, son. They're looking for you."

I hear Jasper's voice calling out, "_Edward!" _The sound reverberates off of the buildings.

"Jasper," I call back in a weak voice.

"Again, Edward," my father instructs me.

"Jasper." It's no use, his calls sound further away.

I turn my attention to where it wants to be. "Are you taking me home, Dad?"

"No, Edward." He shakes his head, looking as young and handsome as I remember. "Think about what you are saying."

"I don't want to die."

"Good. You have too much left to do—it's not your time. You need to be with Bella."

"You know Bella?"

"Of course," he says, his calm fascinating me. "She's as strong as your mother."

"I thought you were the strong one."

He chuckles. "Fooled you."

"Where's Mom?" I want my mom.

"She's here." He looks up and gives a half smile as if he sees her standing between us. "She thought you'd want to come with us if you saw her."

"But I do. I miss you both so much."

"We're always with you, Edward," I hear my mother's voice in my ear.

"Mom, Dad, are you really here?"

My father smirks. "That really doesn't matter, now does it?"

"Did I hurt Bella?"

"No, but you will if you don't help yourself."

"What should I do?"

"Hang on, Edward. They will find you, but you need to hang on."

"Okay." Black ink spills into my peripheral vision. "Will you stay with me?"

"We're right here," my father says.

"Always," my mother adds.

For a moment, I let the black ink envelope me. It is a warm dark sea I float in, before I swim my way to the surface where is it cold and painful. I take a breath and drift in the warmth again.

I swim this way for what feels like an eternity—a breath of cold pain and a sink into peace—my mother, my father, and my Creator always with me.

"Jesus Christ."

A crash of broken glass lands next to me. I struggle to open my eyes to the orange and pink dawn sky.

"Edward, Edward, hang on," Riley's panicked voice is with me. "_Molly!_ I found him. Call 9-1-1!"

_Please stay with me. _

"I'm here, buddy. People have been looking for you all night."

I dip back into the black and feel a coat placed over me. Riley's hands are rubbing my body, heating me. The sound of sirens is like the music of heaven.

"That's my son," my father says, proudly.

It is the last thing I hear.

.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

I will be with you again in about a week.

Warm regards,

Liz x


	37. God is Good

Hello Readers,

Thank you for your continued support. I am sorry I have not had time to respond to more of your reviews. Please know they mean the world to me. I know I have some of the best reviewers there are-challenging and inspiring me.

I hope my author's note last time did not cause you concern. I was not trying to hint at anything—nothing wonky is on the horizon.

I'll let the chapter speak for itself.

Special Thanks to **Raina** for the medical advice, **xoEMC** for pre-reading, **Sunshine** for beta'ing, **robsjenn** for pimping, and **orangeapeal**, just because.

This took longer than I predicted. I hope it is worth it.

.

.

_From Chapter Thirty-six:_

I swim this way for what feels like an eternity—a breath of cold pain and a sink into peace—my mother, my father, and my Creator always with me.

"Jesus Christ."

A crash of broken glass falls next to me. I struggle to open my eyes to the orange and pink dawn sky.

"Edward, Edward, hang on," Riley's panicked voice is with me. "_Molly!_ I found him. Call 9-1-1!"

_Please stay with me. _

"I'm here, buddy. People have been looking for you all night."

I dip back into the black and feel a coat placed over me. Riley's hands are rubbing my body, heating me. The sound of sirens is like the music of heaven.

"That's my son," my father says, proudly.

It is the last thing I hear.

.

.

* * *

Chapter Thirty-seven  
God is Good

.

.

There is a flutter of sensation.

Then warm darkness.

.

.

There is a patchwork of florescent light behind my lids, muffled sound, and pain- throbbing pain throughout my body.

Then I fall back into my dark pool.

.

.

Something is placed over my face. It covers my mouth and nose.

I know I am lying, comfortable, warm. It is all I know.

The black ink seeps in. I cannot fight it. I rest.

.

.

I sense the sound of women's voices—soothing and soft. Something cool touches the palm of my hand, brushes my knuckles.

The voice has a familiar silk, tenor, and kindness—_Bella_. She's here, her hand in mine. Mine in hers.

I fight to decipher words:

"…can't stay, dear."

"A few more minutes?"

_Please God, a few more minutes_.

Bella's hand warms against mine.

"It's Levaquin and Rocephin. They're antibiotics for the pneumonia."

"Are his numbers any better?"

"His pulse ox is improving."

The voices fall away again, just distant vibrations.

"… waiting in the Family Room…"

I swim against the current of my ink pool to stay with my Bella as long as I can.

There are kisses on my hand.

There are words broken by sobs.

"… I love you. Please come back to me, Edward."

_I will._

I drift to the depths once again.

.

.

"Hi, son."

_Esme_

"I wanted to let you know everyone is waiting here for you."

Her voice is clearer than any I remember. The mask is on my face again. I think I remember times when it was not. _My head, my aching head._

"You should see us. Everyone is still in their New Year's Eve outfits." There is a smile to her voice. I am grateful.

_Is Bella here?_

"Detective Jenks is here, too." I feel Esme's fingers brush my bangs away. "He and Bella told us everything, but I don't want you to worry about that…"

A glimpse of Jenks in my condo flickers in my mind.

"… she loves you so, so much."

The dark comes again.

.

.

Every sensation, pain, and ache fades away, but for one pinpoint of awareness—my arid nostrils. I feel like I have rocks up my nose that reach my skull. The tube under my nose is the culprit and needs to be destroyed.

I lift my hand and pull it away.

"There you are, Edward."

I blink open my eyes and see a nebulous image—a soft-shaped woman with a mane of curly black hair, putting the tube back.

"Do you know who I am?"

It takes only a second—the nurse I visit when I come here with Carlisle. My breathing is shallow. I sip enough air to push out her name.

"Siobhan?" My voice sounds foreign, a high-pitched rasp.

As her image sharpens, I see her smile. "Yes. You're at Harborview. You're in the ICU."

I blink my yes, not sure if I'm nodding. Though I can make out her Irish lilt, I miss some words. "… wedged yourself between the wall and dumpster… out all night…"

"Thirsty." It is the only thing I can focus on.

"A little later, I'll give you some ice chips. I'll be back in a moment. Dr. Sluder is the attending. Do you remember Dr. Sluder?"

_Sluder? No. Maybe I should lie._ _Why am I here? _Wait, that name…

"Yes." I remember. She's the compassionate, smart, silver-haired doctor I've come to know over the past few months.

I close my eyes, counting the heartbeats that pulse in my head, until I hear another voice.

"Edward?"

Carlisle, Siobhan, and Dr. Sluder stand in the cramped space around my bed.

_I have so many questions. _

"What day is it?" I ask.

"It is January, 2nd. Monday morning. The ambulance brought you here yesterday morning." Dr. Sluder speaks clearly and simply. It is easy to follow. "You have pneumonia. You had a head CT to rule out any head injuries. An x-ray revealed some hairline rib fractures, probably from prolonged coughing. Does it hurt to breathe?"

"Yes." I drag my hand to my ribs and noticed they are wrapped in some way. "Inhaling, mostly inhaling."

"Intense pain?"

In the moment it takes for me to process the question, she points out a chart on the opposite wall. It must be intended for children—it is a continuum of happy to sad faces, each with a corresponding number from 1 to 10. It would normally make me smile, but I have no energy.

"Five," I say. I've never felt sicker, but I'm sure others have felt worse.

Carlisle narrows his eyes at me.

"Maybe six."

The doctor writes on the clipboard at the bottom of my bed, and as she says some things to Siobhan, I look to Carlisle. His blue eyes are clouded and tired, but he is relieved.

"I'm thirsty," I croak out again.

Dr. Sluder inspects my face and eyes.

"If you're still alert in a little while, you can have some ice chips." She nods to Siobhan, who nods to me.

_Frustration. _

_Why can't I have them now? _

_Is Bella here?_

"You're in good hands, I'll check back with you later, Edward. Not too long, Carlisle, he needs his rest."

When the others leave, Carlisle pulls up the one chair next to my bed.

"Hi, Edward." Now that he is close, I can see the tension he's been holding. "It's good to have you back."

"Tell everyone I'm okay."

"I will." His voice is quiet and somber. He grasps my forearm and I become more aware of the tubes in the top of my hand, and the monitor clipped to my finger. I look to my right and see a machine tracking my heartbeat.

_Is all this for me? I have a bad cold, I think… No, it's pneumonia. _

"Let's pray," he says. I close my eyes and let him lead me. "Heavenly Father, thank you for staying with Edward through the cold night. We have comfort knowing he was never alone. Thank you for bringing him back to us. We know he will fulfill your plan for him while on this Earthly plane. We ask you to heal him and guide him, as we ask for you to heal and guide us all. Amen."

_I wasn't alone. Mom and Dad came._ Instinct urges me to stifle that story.

"Amen." I blink my eyes open saying, "Thank you," and swallow the dry lump in my throat. "Is everyone okay?"

His smile emerges. "Everyone is great now." He stands and gently touches the top of my head. "I need to let you sleep."

"Carlisle, please… I have to see her."

He nods, knowingly. "Okay."

When he leaves, I rest my eyes to preserve my energy. I know she was here earlier, or I thought she was. _A dream? No, it was real. _

.

.

"Hi." Bella peaks her head around the curtain and walks to the chair.

"Hi you."

Seeing her, even with her swollen, tired eyes, a zippered hoodie, and ponytail, she is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I cannot take my eyes off of her.

"Do you want to sleep?" she takes my hand and I'm certain that her earlier visit wasn't a dream.

"No." _Stay with me._

"Dr. Sluder said you're doing well. You might be able to move to a regular room tomorrow. Everyone is so happy, Edward. They're all here. Even Charlie came up." Her tone aspires to be light and calm.

There is only thing I care about.

"Did I hurt you?" I have a memory of opening her coat, pulling her into an alley, falling.

"No," she is quiet but emphatic.

_How do I explain?_

"I wanted to feel your skin."

Bella pulls my hand to her mouth and exhales a sad smile. _Oh, thank you._ She kisses each knuckle and then presses my palm to her cheek. Her flesh is soft and downy. I watch her close her eyes and part her lips. So slowly, she brings my hand to her other cheek. She brushes my fingertips over her jaw. Taking my hand in both of hers, she slides it to her neck.

_Will this be my last touch?_ I shove the thought away.

I stretch out my fingers to feel as much of her skin as I can. I marvel at the way she moves me, how she anticipates every need. She is magical.

Bella is as lost in our connection as I. She skates my hand across her collarbone. Her warm breath washes over my skin. My fingertips touch her neck as she swallows.

She unzips her jacket a few inches, revealing more pale, flawless skin, and gingerly opens my hand, pressing it to her sternum.

"Heartbeat," I say in a scratchy whisper. I listen through my hand—strong and steady—just like my Bella. _It is all too perfect. God, don't let it end._

"Ice chips?" Siobhan quietly interrupts.

Bella widens her eyes, yanked from her trance.

"You have a nebulizer treatment in fifteen minutes, Edward. I'll be back then." _Nebulizer? The mask? I think I like the mask. _

"Kay."

"You should rest," Bella says holding one hand and fingering the edge of my beard with the other.

"No. Don't leave. Don't end the dream."

"It's not a dream, Edward."

"But you're here." _Maybe I died. _ "You look like an angel."

She smiles in that bashful way of hers. _How long has it been?_ I'm tired and want to ask everything I can, confess it all before I fall away. _How can I say all that needs to be said?_

"I'm sorry I left you, Bella."

"I should have come after you." Her voice shakes through unshed tears. "Let's not… we need… there will be time to talk later."

_How will I make this up to you? Will you give me a chance? Are you here as my friend or my lover? Did she tell me already?_ _I'm too scared to ask._ For now I'll pretend. I'll believe she loves me as I love her.

Bella takes an ice chip from the cup and, when I part my lips, places it on my tongue. Cold and thin, it melts giving one perfect drop to slip down my throat, taking an edge off of my burning thirst and keeping me awake.

I open again.

She feeds me again.

"Tell me a story."

"Will you go to sleep if I tell you a story?" she asks with a new, light tone.

"I will if you will."

"Deal."

Another chip. Another perfect drop.

"Do you want a story about Edward Masen?"

"Please… I'm so confused Bella. There's so little I remember," I confess.

"I know, baby," she murmurs with the compassion of a lover.

Another chip.

"Edward Masen was sick over Christmas. Do you remember that?"

"Yes. I stayed with Carlisle and Esme." I look to her reassuring face.

"Yes, you did."

"You went home Sunday and saw Dr. Sparrow on Monday. Do you remember that?"

I try to piece together the rest of that day. "I came home and wrote you a letter."

"You did?"

"Mmm-hmm."

Her eyes begin to tear, but she chokes back emotion. "Well, you get an ice chip for that."

I offer my tongue then roll the chip in my mouth until is disappears.

"I don't remember what I wrote, but I think it was nice."

"We'll hunt it down when we get home."

_Home. _

"Do you remember anything after that?" she asks.

Visions pulse in and out, but I don't know which to believe. I shake my head. The pain crescendos. _Don't do that again._

"Well, you vanished from the rest of the world. We assume now that you were in the condo, but throughout the week, we didn't know what to think. You hadn't been to Kell's, or Sparrow's. Carlton didn't see you come in or out. We slipped notes under the door, but you didn't respond. Jasper… well, a lot of people wondered if you might have gone away for a bit without telling anyone."

"I have been known to do that, you know," I say, trying to smile for her.

"Yes, I do know." She shakes her head, as if she is trying to free herself of a thought, then takes a small tube of some ointment from the plastic pink bin next to my bed.

"Your lips look dry." She squeezes a thin line of something that looks like petroleum jelly on her finger.

Lifting her finger to me, she waits for approval.

"Please."

The movement is slow, but her words are rushed as if she is racing against tears.

"We kept stopping by, and as time went on, we were more convinced you were gone."

"_You_ stopped by?"

"Everyday."

"I remember."

"You do?" Bella stops her movement.

"I heard your voice. I thought it was a dream."

Nodding, she presses her lips between her teeth as she put away the small tube.

"What is it, Bella?"

"Edward… I thought you might be in there, but I never imagined you were still sick." She clutches a fistful of her sweatshirt at her chest, as guilt gushes like a waterfall out of her. "I thought you wanted time alone. I could have broken in, but knowing your past… I thought breaking into your condo would terrify you. I'm so, so, sorry."

"Bella, you couldn't know." Quickly, she nods and collects herself again. "And I did hide in my condo… for weeks." I no longer know if I was sick or depressed, probably both.

"Then there was New Year's Eve." Her watchful brown eyes scan my face for recollection.

"Jenks? That was real, wasn't it?"

"Yes." Her voice barely audible.

The memories assault my mind, a tide of grief drowning me. I pinch the bridge of my nose and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to obliterate the image of Bella facing the murderers… the night in my room... those who died because of me. I try to pull my legs up, to curl away, but the effort only makes me cough.

"Edward… Edward..." I feel her stand over me, holding my face and stroking under my eyes with her thumbs, whispering, "Please, please, baby… Look at me." I open my eyes and fall into the vision above me. Her strength and compassion hypnotize me. Her full lips part and her eyes widen at her intake of air. I breathe with her. And again. "There we go."

_Merciful God, Thank you for Bella. May I keep her?_

"We're going to work everything out. In time, I'll tell you everything. I'll help you. Everyone will help you."

"Why did you do it?" I grasp her wrist, keeping her hands on my face.

"Why?" She tilts her head, and frowns, mystified. "Why wouldn't I?"

"You did that even though you didn't love me anymore?"

Her brown eyes turn dark and fierce. "Edward Masen, I fell in love with you right here in this hospital and never, not even for one second, have I stopped."

_Is it possible?_ I breathe painless air. Her words heal me. Though she's told me a million times, it has taken until now for me to see—her love for me is simple.

Sitting back down, she says, "And I know you might not feel the same way anymore, but right now that's not…"

"Bella, for a few days, I pretended I could live without you. Of all the lies I've told myself, it was the worst—a sacrilege against you. Against God."

"You… you do still love me?"

_Oh, God, I still haven't told her. _

I bring her hand to my lips, and Bella leans over, stretching her arm for me. I kiss the velvet skin of her hand. "I love you," and again, "I love you," and again, "I love you. I will love you forever, Isabella Swan."

With the back of her hand, she wipes her tear-streaked cheeks. "What were you doing out in Seattle with no coat? Were you delirious?"

"No. I was looking for you."

Bella begins to sob. "I went to get Jasper, to call 9-1-1… I had no phone… and we lost you. We looked in the alley, but we didn't see you. We spent the night searching…"

"We're okay. It's okay now. We're okay."

"Right, right. We're okay. We just had a good scare."

Bella takes the box of tissues from my bin and wipes her eyes.

"Can I have one?"

"Of course."

I take a moment to clean out the rocks in my nose, and apologize for the display.

"Don't be silly." She offers her hand and I give her the wadded up tissues.

"Can I ask you something, Bella?"

"Anything."

"Who's Garrett?"

Bella laughs. It is the song of relief. "Garrett is _married_ to Kate. Garrett's flight was grounded because of snow in Wisconsin and he couldn't get back to his wife. He called Jasper. They dragged me out to have a drink with them. Alice said she couldn't leave me sitting alone in my pajamas. Edward, she made me get dressed. I really, really wanted to stay in my pajamas."

"Which pajamas?"

"Flannel."

"The red ones."

"Yes."

"I like those."

"Me too."

"I'm sorry Edward, it's time for Bella to go." Siobhan appears as if out of thin air.

My expression for her, an entreaty.

"Just one more minute, please," Bella asks. Her brows pull together, and I know that even Siobhan cannot refuse when she shifts her eyes between the two of us.

"Alright, I'll give you time to say good-bye, dear." She gives us peace with a sympathetic smile.

"You do need to rest, Edward." Bella stands and presses a long kiss to the top of my head. She smells clean and pure.

She leans in further and whispers in my ear, "I'm going to ask something of you. Something you asked of me once."

Her heart and mine are the same, so I know what she wants.

I turn my head, and brush my lips to her ear as I whisper the most freeing words I've ever uttered, "I surrender to you."

Knowing I am in the loving, capable hands of my Bella, sleep takes over.

~0~

"Please get me a razor."

"Why do you want a razor?" Jasper asks, warily.

I moved to a private room upstairs this morning, and since Bella left for a few minutes, Jasper has kept me company, sitting next to me… and somewhat annoying me. It is as if he has a secret. Each question I ask is met with his own question.

My pain has subsided, particularly my headache, and I've been freed of my catheter. _Thank you, God._ This room has a couch and a few chairs, so people can visit longer, but Bella has been as vigilant as Siobhan about my rest.

"Isn't it obvious? I look like Grizzly Adams. I gotta shave this fucking thing off of me."

"Well, I can bring you my electric shaver from home."

"An electric shaver isn't going to…" _Holy Shit. _It finally occurs to me what's going on. "Am I on suicide watch?" _Unbelievable._

Jasper's mouth opens as if he will speak, but he says nothing.

"Oh, God, Jasper. _I am not suicidal_. Please tell me I'm not on suicide watch."

_God, please tell him I am not suicidal. _

"No, no… not officially… Edward, you can't blame me for worrying. Your behavior over the last few weeks has been quite erratic. And then… hiding behind the dumpster?"

_I will never live that down. _

"I know, and I appreciate your concern, but we've talked about this. I was sick and confused. You know I turned a corner before Christmas—I was seeing Sparrow, getting my act together…"

My voice trails off as Jasper rubs his hands over his face. When I really look at him, I see his three-day old stubble, and how is face sags with lack of sleep.

"When did you last sleep, Jasper?"

"I don't know… um… a little last night, whatever."

"Go home, buddy. You need to sleep, too."

He presses his hand to his forehead, then looks up at me. "You're alright?"

"Yeah. I'm going to be okay."

He sighs and slouches further down in his chair. "Before I go, I talked with a Dr. Eleazar, he's the Chief of Behavioral Healthcare… Now, before you put up a fight, I think you should consider some of the programs. They have great outpatient care…"

"Yeah."

"What?"

"I need help. My parents, the memories, I need help. How do I meet this Dr. El—what's his name?"

Jasper drops his head. "God, I thought this was going to be an argument."

"I'm done fighting. I want to move on. I'm starting to think I can have more in this life than I ever imagined… and I want it all. I need help."

"Alright, good," he says, surprise still in his voice. "In a few days, when you're doing better, I'll arrange a consult."

"Thank you. Go home to Alice. Give her my love. Get some sleep."

"Yes. A nap is in order."

He grabs his coat and starts for the door. "Should I wait until Bella returns?"

"Nah. I like to rest when she's not here so I can be alert with her."

"You got it."

I close my eyes, and listen for her soft footfall.

_Fuck._ I startle awake. To the right of me, Bella is asleep, sitting up on the couch. The clock reads 6:35. I've been out for a least an hour.

There is a duffle bag at her feet on the floor, and she's wearing a change of clothes—a large sweater that hides her figure and soft looking faded jeans. _Have you eaten, Bella? _ I still yearn to feel her body. It's the truth of her happiness she can never conceal.

_Oh, she looks so uncomfortable._ Knocked-kneed and pigeon-toed, with her chin tucked awkwardly—she's going to be sore. I know she's exhausted.

_Should I wake her? _

"How are we doing, Edward?" _Fuck. I don't have a choice_. The new nurse is loud. And wiry, with thin blond hair. Bella stirs as she strides in the room. I glance at the whiteboard on the opposite wall:

_'Nurse on Duty: Sophia'_

"I'm feeling good. Thanks, Sophia." I glance over to Bella, hoping Sophia will have some sympathy and lower her voice. _No luck._

Bella wakes up and smiles at me as I roll my eyes behind Sophia's back. There are numbers rattled off that mean nothing to me, but Bella scrambles for a notebook and writes each one down. While vials of blood are drawn, I look to Bella and she gives a thumbs up and a wink, letting me know my numbers look good.

_Bella the nurse. _

"Um… Sophia…? We haven't met. I'm Bella. You're going to see a lot of me."

"Oh, so you're the one bearing gifts. You're very popular at the nurses' station."

"I'm glad you like them."

_Gifts?_

"When Edward's ready he can change into pajamas. Is that correct?"

"Yes. Nothing too tight."

_Too tight?_ I have a bizarre image of black Lycra pajamas hidden in Bella's bag.

"Right. Of course."

The women go on talking about food, the numbers, and pajamas. I love seeing Bella like this—so charming. She touches Sophia on the arm as they talk. Her warmth is sincere.

_Why did I leave her?_ I can barely remember.

Bella turns to me with a smile after Sophia's exit. "Alone again."

"Thank God."

She rifles through her belongings and retrieves an insulated lunch bag.

"What did you bring me?"

"If you are sure you're ready, Esme made some tomato soup for you. It's mild."

"Mmm. Please."

I push the button on my bed to bring myself to sitting as Bella clears off my cluttered tray. She uses the sanitizer to wipe everything down, then lays out a placemat I recognize from Carlisle and Esme's house.

"Carlisle made you bread." She takes out a small foil wrapped loaf. "Oh, still warm." She hands it to me and I my mouth waters at the aroma and feel.

"I love food."

"I know. We'll take it slow. No need to push."

_Tomato soup? I want grilled cheese. _

"I have a grilled cheese, too."

She feels the foil-wrapped square. "Oh, this still is warm, too."

I watch her set up my place setting, pouring a little soup from the thermos in a small white bowl I've never seen before.

"Have you eaten?"

"Yep."

"What did you have?" A cheese sandwich?

"I had a cheese sandwich." Bella chuckles. "Two actually. Don't worry about me."

I tuck a napkin in the collar of my hospital gown and Bella brings a spoonful of soup to me, her hand underneath to catch any drops.

She feeds me a sip and my taste buds awaken from a long hibernation "Wow, that's good."

"The cafeteria isn't bad downstairs. They made the grilled cheese."

Bella dips a corner in the soup then brings it to me. The crisp bread and butter melt with cheese and soup on my tongue—amazing.

"More?"

"Mmm-hmm."

I can't control the smile that starts to spread as I watch her carefully dip another corner and bring it to me. "You know I can feed myself, right?"

"Of course I do."

"We both like it better this way?"

"Yep."

Bella continues to feed me until I finish the small bowl of soup, more than half the sandwich, and a large hunk of fresh bread.

Unfortunately, I have the urge to pee. Though I went with Jasper earlier, I've been dreading this moment, and it must show on my face.

"What's wrong? Do you need something?"

"I have to use the bathroom."

"Oh. Okay." Bella pulls away the cart and rolls my IV to me, as if she practiced while I slept. _Maybe she did._

My body is stiff. Every joint aches with the slightest move. I brace myself by gripping the bed and, with Bella's help, carefully swing my legs around.

_Humiliating. _

Thank God, she says nothing. No cooing at me like I'm a child.

Her arm slides around my waist.

"Ready?"

"Yeah."

I take a breath and stand with her as my support. Impossible to straighten, I walk with her to the bathroom hunched over like a decrepit old man.

We reach the door. "I… I'll… be right back."

"I'm here if you need me."

I walk in and close the door behind me, comforted that she didn't push to help me. I grasp the pole holding my IV, and pee. As I wash my hands, I look in the mirror at this man—this homeless man—I do not know. His body is a shriveled, and shaped like a question mark. His thin face is masked by this bushy mass, but his eyes, large and frightening, are sunken into purple-grey skin.

_How can she ever find me attractive again? _

I see no resemblance of my father in my body, nor my mother in my face. It's just me reflected in the mirror. Just Edward.

There is a tap on the bathroom door. "Need me?"

_No, but I want you. _ Ironic. That's the bullshit argument that started this whole mess. I no longer care about any of it. Life is too fucking short.

I open the door. "I have everything I need." We take the slow journey back to my bed.

"Pajamas tonight?" From her inflection, I know she's already answered her own question.

_I can't undress in front of you, not yet._ "Tomorrow?"

"Sounds good."

I get into bed and Bella pulls the blankets to my chest. She rubs my arm. "Close your eyes, you know where I'll be."

As she steps towards the couch, I clutch her hand. "Shuffy-shuffy?"

Her eyes smile before her lips. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Kay."

Bella scurries around the corner and closes the door. When she turns back around, she bounces her brows, and has a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"We have a good two hours before your next nebulizer," she whispers like a kid cutting school for the first time.

I try not to wince as I make room for her in the bed, but I fail.

"Are you sure? Sure?"

"Yes. Yes. Sure, sure."

"Kay."

Quickly, she kicks off her shoes and runs to the side of my bed without the IV.

I turn on my side and find the position more comfortable than I thought. I open the blanket for her and she crawls inside.

"Wait." Bella reaches up and turns out the florescent light above our head. "Okay, good," she whispers in the dark, just like when we're at home.

We snuggle together, perfectly fitting spoons. Her hair smells good. I'm sure mine does not.

"Hmm. Should I be the outside spoon? You're the sick one."

I chuckle at her whisper and match her breathy voice. "No. I like it like this."

"Close your eyes, you should sleep."

"You too."

I slip my hand between her jeans and her sweater, looking for my favorite part of her flesh… And maybe feeling to see if she's lost weight.

As I reach her stomach, Bella laces her fingers through mine, presses a kiss on my palm and clutches our hands to her chest. _No luck._

I breathe her in._ Mmm. This is nice. I came so close to losing this. How did I get it back? It can't be this simple. Can it be this simple? Jesus Christ, they said I almost died two nights ago. Wow_. A million thoughts come rushing in.

"Edward, you're shaking." She peers up to look at me.

"I'm… I'm okay."

"It's a lot to take in."

Bella turns fully around and touches my face.

"Yeah." I hold onto her. "When I get home, will you let me start over? Maybe we can start this thing from the beginning."

"Start over? How about we pick up where we left off?"

"Yeah? That'd be okay with you?"

"That would be great with me."

"We have a lot to talk about."

"I know. We will."

Bella begins tenderly playing with my whiskers and I start to reconsider shaving the beard.

"And I think I'm going to see a new therapist, maybe. Um, someone who's here at the hospital."

She encourages me with a subtle nod, so I keep going.

"And, I won't get in the way of you and Doc anymore. I promise I won't…"

"I stopped seeing him."

"Yeah?"

"We, we disagreed on some… really important issues."

"Oh." _Like what? Me?_

"You'll like my new therapist."

"What's he like?"

"She. It's a she. And she's… about fifty, chain-smoking, cusses like a sailor… tough. Doesn't take crap from anyone. Her name is Anne."

"I like her already." I feel no need to conceal questions that a month ago I would be too fearful to ask. "Do you think maybe you'd consider coming to my doctor with me, or I can go to yours. You know, just a few times. Maybe we can, I don't know…"

"Of course." Her smile widens. "It would be so _us _to go to counseling together, because we dated for two months, it makes sense," she says wryly.

"Yes. Backwards. We do everything backwards."

"Truer words have never been spoken." She pulls herself up and gives me a kiss on my forehead. "Okay, nap time."

"Nap time." She turns back around and I press my body to hers. We should sleep, but I miss talking to her. "So, you fell in love with me in this hospital?"

"I slept with you the first night, didn't I?"

"That was very promiscuous of you."

"That's it, you're in trouble, mister."

"Are you going to spank me with a ruler?"

Her giggles make the bed vibrate. "No. Now go to bed."

I wait several moments for her sleeping purr, but it doesn't come.

"Bella are you sleeping?"

"No. Are you?"

I laugh into her hair.

"So, when I was in my condo, you didn't come in and dance around in your underwear?"

"THAT was a dream."

"Thought so."

"I'll do it for you when we go home."

"Really? Thanks."

I hold her more tightly and tangle my legs with hers. We lie like this in silence and my heart swells. I am awed by the grace of God.

_God is good. _

"Little bed," is the last thing I hear before her sleeping purr comes.

.

.

.

"Edward." An admonishing whisper pulls my attention. _Shit. Siobhan._

"I'm not waking her. This is the best sleep either of us has had."

"Bella bribed the nurses up here with chocolate, you know."

"I've bribed you with brownies before."

She drops her mouth in mock horror, "Those were gifts," and gives a quiet laugh.

"Can you do me a favor?"

"Turn a blind eye?"

"Well, that, yes. But, Bella's feet are cold. She has very thin socks on."

With a smirk, Siobhan disappears, then returns with two fresh pairs of hermetically sealed hospital socks, one for each of us.

.

.

.

.

* * *

*Big Sigh*

We are down to a few chapters and an epilogue. I learned from this chapter that I do not want to rush my writing for quicker updates, it would better serve you, the story, and myself to get each chapter in this last act just right before posting. I expect ten days to two weeks for each remaining update. Thank you for your patience.

Warm regards,

Liz x


	38. Atonement

Thank you for your patience. Thank you for sharing amazing stories of grief and recovery in your reviews and PMs. Thank you for laughing with me.

I'm grateful for Sunshine for beta'ing this chapter, xo EMC for the feedback, and songster for her great eye and gentle advice.

Last time, on SGMR… Edward was rushed to the hospital after spending the night in an alley behind a dumpster. He had a severe case of pneumonia and, although it was touch and go for a while, he was on the up and up by chapter end. Bella was there when he woke in the hospital, and after a month-long separation, they didn't appear to have an ounce of love lost. Edward is now needing to deal with suppressed memories of his parents' murders and piecing his life back together.

.

.

* * *

Chapter Thirty-eight  
Atonement

.

.

"Hi Nicole. Are they still in there?" I ask from behind the glass partition in Dr Eleazar's waiting room.

"Yes. Bella and Dr Eleazar should be done soon. I just made some coffee, would you like a cup?"

"Yes, please."

Nicole disappears behind her reception area and makes me a cup, just the way I like it, sweet and light. Touching her long, straight blond hair, she looks over her shoulder and smiles at me sweetly. She has the kind of warmth that softens the blow of whatever is to come behind the doctor's door.

We exchange shy smiles as I lift my mug, then take my familiar seat and wait.

This room, this hospital, has become a second home since I first entered about two weeks ago. First, the week in a hospital bed to repair my body, then three days in residence in at the behavioral health wing to begin repairing my mind. Now, I spend much of my days here in group and individual therapy sessions, and spend my nights at Carlisle and Esme's where we talk frankly about my fractured past.

Always, through each step, Bella has been by my side. Attending to my needs, listening, or simply sitting with me in silence when the spoken word cannot compete with the internal volume of newly remembered images.

I take another sip of coffee, my warm comfort, and contemplate the hour ahead. Today is our turning point. Dr Eleazar and I have already had sessions with Carlisle and Esme, even Jasper came for a session, and now it's Bella's turn. If all goes well, I'll move back into the condo tonight, Bella will move in this weekend, and I'll cut back my sessions to a few times a week.

I brush my hand over my smooth face. Never wanting to see a hint of that beard again, I've taken to shaving every day, sometimes twice a day.

Lost in thought, staring at my coffee, I feel someone sit next to me.

"Hi." Bella's voice is quiet.

"Hey, there." I peer over to Bella's beautiful face and deep eyes. She's wearing worn jeans and my white cable knit sweater she's adopted as her own. "I didn't even hear you."

"I noticed." She places her warm hand on my knee. "Are you okay?"

"Yep, I'm great. How about you? I mean, how was it? Did you like him?"

"Very much. He's as good as you said."

"He's pretty direct, isn't he…? He calls his style aggressive."

"Yes." Her eyes widen. "My dad would call him a straight shooter."

"What did you um… What did you talk about?" I promised myself I wouldn't ask, and held out a full 20 seconds before giving in.

"Ahh, a few different things." Her brow briefly furrows. "He wanted to hear about my sessions with Anne… and there were a couple of things he brought up that I think he wants to talk about with both of us."

"Sure, yeah. Right, right."

Bella threads her fingers through mine, reassuring me. Weeks ago, I'd be frantic that Bella had secrets. But now, it is just a low hum of worry filling in the background of my mind.

"So, are you ready to go in?" she asks.

"Yep. You?"

"I'm ready." Her curt nod and pressed lips tell me that she is preparing herself, maybe even more so than I.

We walk in and Dr Eleazar gives me a firm handshake and gestures for us to sit across from him on the couch.

He is a lanky but fit man, probably in his mid-forties, with black hair, eyes of flint, and a thin, handsome face. He exudes calm wisdom, as if he is much older than his years.

"Edward, Bella was catching me up to date on her own therapy and some things you and I have discussed about her past—her relationship with Mike, the accident, your relationship—but we haven't discussed how she closed the case on your parents. Bella, I'd like for you to take me through that now."

"Okay."

I've heard this story several times in the last two weeks. Each time I ask her to tell it to me, I think of another question or learn a new detail.

"It started the day after Edward first told me about his parents' mur- when they died."

"You can use words like murder or kill. That is what happened," he assures her.

She flashes her eyes to me and I take her hand, whispering, "It's okay."

With a small nod, she continues. "It was clear that Edward had a lot of trouble talking about the… murders, and I didn't want to push him."

"That was the weekend of your most severe PTSD episode, wouldn't you say, Edward?"

I nod and find the power not to advert my eyes.

I've told him about that that weekend in vivid detail—forcing her over the couch, running away, returning to find Bella trapped in a nightmare, slamming at the window—all of it.

Bella squeezes my hand. Always forgiving.

"I was… I was very difficult to deal with," she defends me. "I locked myself in the bathroom, and was horribly sick, but Edward took care…"

"Bella, I'm not judging Edward's behavior. I am simply setting the stage for what happened. We will get to the PTSD before long."

My stomach tenses. I knew the PTSD conversation was coming, but it still makes me shake inside. _Lord, give me strength._

"Why don't you continue with the story?" he suggests.

Taking a deep breath, she starts again. "I had so many questions… The next day I went to the library to look up newspaper articles surrounding the event. But the only new thing I learned was that the case was still open. Since I was taking time off from work, I spent my time looking through the police blotters and news articles to find something similar, other crimes in the area—but couldn't make any connections. That's when I called my father."

"He's the Police Chief in Forks," I jump in. "And Bella has a degree in Criminal Justice and is going to go to law school." I sound more like a proud grandfather than a boyfriend.

Dr Eleazar suppresses an embarrassed smile for me and looks down as he crosses his legs.

"What did you ask your father to do for you?"

"I asked him to get the file on the Masens' case."

"And how did he take that?"

She laughs. "Concerned… curious, but that's my father."

"But he got it for you."

"Yes he did. But I didn't do much with it until Edward and I… until we… when we…"

"Until you and Edward broke up?"

"Yes," her voice is quiet and she drops her eyes to our intertwined fingers. I brush my thumb across her hand.

"I moved back to Forks and after a day of wallowing, I saw the file on the kitchen table. My dad must have taken it out and put in there."

_A new detail. _

"And it just consumed me. I looked over all of the interview transcripts—witnesses from the neighborhood, suspects—I kept thinking that it had to be someone from his parents' company… but nothing. Until I looked at the last date the partial fingerprints were run through the national database. It was long ago—a decade."

"Another favor from your father?"

"You could say that, but he was on board. The database turned up a long list of names, and from there it was a process of elimination. Who lived near Seattle during the time? Who committed similar crimes…? It took a while, but I eventually narrowed it down."

"Royce and King, they committed similar crimes?" he asks, remembering everything without ever writing a single word.

"For the most part they only had small burglaries on their record—with one exception—a home burglary that ended in the residences' death. They um… they killed them and were serving time. King was named the accomplice, Royce, the murderer." Bella's voice fades to nothing.

The room goes silent for a moment as Dr Eleazar leans forward, looking like he is ready to challenge her the way he does me, but I don't know why. I have the urge to protect her.

"Edward told me you interviewed King yourself, is that right?"

"Yes."

"You didn't want to let your father or Detective Jenks take over."

My eyes shift between the two of them. Bella's focus sharpens. I don't know what is happening, but something intense is transpiring between them.

"No," she says, tightening her jaw.

"Why?"

"I wanted to talk to him myself."

"Why?"

"I had to know." Her volume increases.

"It was dangerous."

"It was not." Her body stiffens next to me. "Why, _why_ does everyone say that? It wasn't dangerous, he was incarcerated."

"You could have harmed the investigation."

"I wouldn't. I knew what I was doing… and I wasn't going to let Jenks, the court system, or anyone else screw this up before I got a piece of him, before I got the truth—before I looked him in the eyes and saw for myself... before I had chance to ask him point blank—"

"He told you?"

"Yes, yes he did. It didn't matter what happened after that. I'd always have that bit of truth I could give to Edward."

I'm silent, watching their rapid exchange.

"Why did he tell you?"

"He wanted what we all want—atonement."

"Did he get it?"

"No. It's not for me to give."

Dr Eleazar lets her breathe for only a second, and says, "But you and Edward weren't even together."

"It didn't matter, it doesn't matter. He..." She turns to me, eyes tearing. "You were sick with heartache from the minute I met you. Happy and kind to everyone, but suffering. All I've ever wanted to give you is a little peace. But I was so weak, I felt like I kept failing you. It didn't matter if we were apart… I'd never stop loving you."

I feel my mouth drop open. Though she has articulated her love many times, it's never felt quite like this—as if her feelings no longer lie on the surface of my skin, but permeate me. She fights for me, and always has.

"Edward, how does hearing this make you feel?"

I answer him, but keep my eyes on her. "Cherished."

"I do. I cherish you, Edward."

"And you're embracing this feeling?" he asks.

"Yes, I am." How can something so simple feel so profound? I've thought I've felt this before, but it feels new. "I feel… I feel worthy." She blinks back tears and tilts her head, smiling. "Oh, and I love you, too Bella."

Bella laughs and drops her head. "Thank you, Edward." She takes a deep breath and meets my eyes again.

As I hold her stare, I pray for the room and Dr Eleazar to melt away. I can taste the intimacy of this moment on my tongue. I want to be alone with her, hold her in my arms, and find the words that can say it all for me.

"Let's move on."

He can be ruthless.

"Bella, I'd like to discuss what you brought up to me before Edward joined us."

Oh, she looks mad.

"You do?" she asks with a hard edge.

"I want to talk about Teddy."

"Oh." She looks over and sees the fear in my eyes. "I'm sorry, Edward. I know you don't like that name."

"It's alright, Bella. I told you I didn't, but it's really fine." My tone is apologetic. I slide my arm around her shoulders.

"Using the term Teddy is a good way to open communication about Edward's PTSD episodes," he says.

"Okay." Bella starts timidly, "You see, I know how to deal with you, Edward, but Teddy… sometimes I don't feel _safe_ with him." She says the word as carefully as one can manage.

I take my arm from her shoulder, and pull away fractionally. _How could she feel safe with him? With me? _ Clearly, it's my turn to speak, but all I can do is stare at my shoes. Time passes. I don't know what to say. My shoes need polishing. I glance at Dr Eleazar's shoes, then Bella's. Her boots are shiny.

"Hey, are those new boots?"

"Yes, they are. Do you like them?" Bella elongates her leg so I can see them from heel to knee.

"I do. They're pretty."

"Thank you. I was wearing Alice's all the time. We both like them so much, I bought this pair. They're the same, just a different color."

"Yes, they are a little different."

"These are cordovan, her boots are cognac."

"Hmmm, cordovan. I've heard of that before."

"Just a fancy word for reddish brown."

I look up at her kind, patient face. "Your hair is cordovan."

"Yes, you could say that."

Her grace emboldens me.

"Here's the thing—I think Teddy might be sort of trying to hurt you, your feelings… and I'm really sorry about that."

"Thank you for saying so." Bella places her hand on my knee. "I don't know what to do when he comes out, so sometimes I push and other times, I run away… and I know that can makes things worse."

"Teddy is a defense mechanism for Edward," Dr Eleazar says. "For the most part, he arrives during a PTSD episode. It served him to keep people away during his teen years and early twenties, it's not serving him anymore."

"So what do we do?" Bella asks.

"Let's talk about some strategies for managing Teddy."

We spend the remainder of the hour discussing the angry teen who lives inside of me. Though we hope the anger recedes with more therapy, some part of him will likely always be with me. We listen intently, and don't even giggle when Dr Eleazar talks about things like safe words.

When the hour is done, he suggests we continue couples counseling, a few times a month, to start.

"You can keep seeing me, or I can recommend a few other therapists."

With a quick exchange of glances, Bella and I agree to continue our therapy here.

"Dr Eleazar, what do you think about us moving in together? Do you think we're ready?"

"Edward, Bella, you don't need my permission. You're ready when you say you're ready."

I mouth the words to Bella, _I'm ready, _and she responds_, me too._

After our session, I drive Bella back to her apartment and walk her to the parking garage elevator.

She stretches up to her toes and gives me a kiss. "Are you sure you don't want to come up?"

"I'm sure I do want to come up." I kiss her again, and slip my hands down to her behind. "But I like the plan we already made."

"Me too," she whispers and kisses me, placing her hands on the nape of my neck.

"We should make it special. It will be our first and our last reunion."

"I like the way you think, Masen." She brushes her lips against mine once more and pulls away. "I know you have a lot to do tonight."

"Yes, tomorrow during the day, too. Sorry."

"Don't be. You're a busy boy."

"Girls night tonight?"

"Mm-hmm. But I'm all yours tomorrow night."

"Good. I'll call later, and tomorrow."

"Kay."

"Seven-thirty dinner?"

"I'll be ready."

I step away, but don't want to unlock our intertwined fingers.

"Today went pretty well, didn't it?" I ask.

"Today went great."

I watch her enter the elevator, then go to my car, pulling out my notepad a pen from the glove box. I have a long list to make.

~0~

The next morning, I pull up to the small cape cod house. The curtains open and Charlie looks out at me.

_Lord, please help me here. _

Proverbs 16:13 quickly comes to mind: _Kings take pleasure in honest lips; they value a man who speaks the truth._

_King Charlie. _

The door swings open as I step on the small porch.

"Edward." Charlie is chewing a toothpick. He scans my face and body.

"Chief Swan." I shake his hand and he grants me entrance.

"I just made a pot of coffee," he says, walking through the dinning room and into the kitchen. I follow behind, shoving my shaking hands into my pockets. "How was the drive?"

_Don't be scared, just speak the truth. _

"Fine. Good, sir. I made good time." He turns and looks at me with a disapproving glance. "I mean, I didn't speed. Light traffic coming out of Seattle."

"You take milk, right?"

"Yes, milk." I feel like a pussy, he's so cool with his black coffee.

"And sugar?"

"Um… yeah. Yes."

"Bella says you're feeling a lot better, you look better."

"Thank you. And, thank you again for coming to the hospital. I know it meant the world to Bella… and me. It was really nice for me, too… you know, for you to come." _Calm down, Edward._

He gives a curt nod and hands me a coffee cup. I follow him to the dining room table where we each take a seat.

"So, a three and a half hour car ride, huh?"

"Um, yes."

"Too important to discuss on the phone?" He mirrors my message to him when I requested a visit.

"Yes."

"And Bella doesn't know you're here."

"No… sir."

He raises his eyebrows, expectantly.

"I'm here for two reasons. First, I wanted to thank you for helping Bella with my parents' case. I know I thanked you at the hospital, well, I think I did, but I wasn't fully cognizant at the time."

"You did thank me, and you're welcome." He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, and I do the same. "You… ah… you look good, better. You shaved."

"Yes. It wasn't my best look." I rub my skin, smooth with the exception of the slight growth from the three-hour drive.

"You know, Edward," Charlie clears his throat, "solving the case was all Bella. I didn't really do a thing; she gets all the credit."

"Thank you for saying so."

I know I'm stalling. The words I seek to say are stuck in my throat.

"So, you said there were two things you drove all this way for."

"Yes… that's true." Without realizing it, I begin to roll my neck, stretching out the tension that has developed. I brace myself with God's strength. "Charlie, with your permission-"

"Stop. Edward, don't."

_Oh, fuck._

"Before you say anything, you should know something…"

_Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. _

Charlie's eyes tighten to shards of black coal. "Bella never told me."

He waits for me to respond, but I'm at a loss. I sputter, "Never told you…? Never told you what, sir?"

"Bella never told me what sent her back here."

"Oh."

"Now, I guess you two had some sort of fight. Is that right?"

"Yes, sir. You could say that."

"And you worked it all out?"

"Yes. I think that's fair to say."

_Where are you going with this, Charlie? _

"'Cause, some people take a while to learn that… learn that a fight doesn't mean, you know." He rubs his hand over his face; his discomfort is palatable. "Bella's mom… her mom and I never really figured that out and ahh, well Sue… you met Sue…"

"Yes. Sue's great."

"She and I are better… look I guess what I'm trying to say is apologize and be nice to her after a fight, or argument, whatever."

Charlie looks out the window for a minute, pensive.

"Edward, when you and Bella fought… um… did you, did you hurt her feelings?"

"Yes. I think I probably did."

He continues to stare at the trees outside, nods, and licks his lips. "Try not to do that anymore. Bella is… she's special."

"Yes, she is. Very."

I thought he'd threaten me, but instead I've been given a gift. Before me is a man with watery sadness in his eyes. He believes he is about to lose a daughter. I do want Bella for my own, but I promise, I'll share.

"It's too soon, Edward. You're rushing it."

"I know what you're thinking. Really, I just want to make her a promise."

He lets out a long, throaty exhale. "Well, go ahead. Ask me."

~0~

I give the condo a once over:

-Calla Lilies and Roses on the table

-Good smelling soap in the bathroom

-Cabinets and fridge filled with food

-Engagement ring in pocket of sports coat

_Okay, that's everything._

I glance at the clock. Still too early to pick Bella up for dinner.

I walk to my stereo, and decide to play a game I haven't in a long time.

Closing my eyes, I press shuffle on my iPod and pray for God to give me a sign.

The simple acoustic guitar strum brings a smile to my face. The Smiths_, Please, Please Please, Let Me Get What I Want: _

_Good times for a change  
See, the luck I've had  
Can make a good man  
Turn bad_

_So, please, please, please  
Let me, let me, let me  
Let me get what I want  
This time_

What a simple song. _Well played, God. Well played._

I check for the ring again. It's still there.

_Alright God, Mom, Dad… here we go._

_._

_._

_._

_._

* * *

Next update, this weekend.

Oh, Edward... is it too soon?

Much love,

Liz x


	39. The Choice

Thank you all for reading and reviewing. If you didn't hear, FFN has not been nice and wouldn't let me post this sooner.

Too soon? A proposal or a promise? How will she react?

Thank you to Orangeappeal for pre-reading and Sunshine for betaing. Like always, I own any mistakes below. I was tweaking until the last minute.

When we last left off, Edward was leaving to pick up Bella to take her to dinner.

Enjoy…

* * *

.

.

Chapter Thirty-eight  
The Choice

.

As we drive back from dinner, I conclude it is probably the most uncomfortable evening we've had. With the conversation stilted and Charlie texting every half hour 'just to check in,' Bella and I probably should have just ordered a pizza and crashed on the couch.

I open the door to our condo and let Bella lead the way.

Following at a distance, I watch her walk into the living room, taking in the new décor. The old sofa I threw out when we broke up is replaced with a new leather sectional Esme picked out for me. _Hmm, I wonder if its cordovan._

"The place looks really nice."

"Thanks." I keep my eyes on her, hoping she is as happy here as she once was.

"You painted, didn't you? The walls were white, but now look… " She walks closer to one wall for inspection and I reach for the dimmer switch, increasing the lighting, "But now it's taupe. You painted the place taupe?"

"Yeah. I um, I had a little painting experiment while you were gone and had the place painted over. Do you like it?"

"Yes, very much." She smiles back at me and digs her hands into her coat pockets. We're both so nervous, stumbling through awkwardness—I haven't even taken her coat.

"Can I take your coat?"

"Sure… well… maybe in a minute. I'm a little cold."

"I'll turn up the heat."

"No, it's okay. I like my coat."

"It's a nice coat."

"Thanks."

_Oh, Lord. What's happening? Why does it feel like a first date? A BAD first date. _

Bella reaches into her coat and pulls out her phone. "It's Charlie again. I think I should call, something might be wrong."

"Yeah, sure."

She presses a button, and slowly paces around the room while I watch from the kitchen. "Hi Dad, everything okay?"

_Come on Charlie, hold it together. _

"Yep, dinner." Bella looks at me with a quizzical smirk. I pretend I'm clueless.

"I ordered steak. Edward…? Yes, he had steak, too… Medium for me, medium rare for Edward." Bella covers the phone with her hand and whispers to me, "I think he's lonely."

I nod and hold up a bottle wine, but she shakes her head no. I had enough booze while she was gone to last me a long time, so I put it away.

"Dad, are sure everything is okay…? We're at the condo… Sure, hold on…"

"Charlie says good night."

"Night Charlie," I call out.

"Okay, Dad, I'll talk to you tomorrow." Bella ends the call and places the phone back in her pocket. "That was weird."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing really. He wanted to see how our night was going. I should go for a visit soon."

"I'm sure he'd like that."

The atmosphere becomes heavy again, and Bella wanders to the floor-to-ceiling windows. "I've missed this view."

I approach, staring at the uncomfortable couple reflected in glass. "It's… it's a good view."

"Sure is."

I place my hands on her shoulders. She startles.

"Sorry," I say looking at her eyes in our reflection.

"It's okay."

"Bella, do you feel—are you nervous?"

"Yes. You?"

"Yeah. Really nervous."

She turns to me, my fear bringing on her calm.

"Edward, maybe we've built up this whole reunion sex thing little too much."

"Yes. Maybe that's it." Or maybe I'm about to propose and I'm suddenly terrified of saying the words aloud that I've recited a million times in my head.

Of one thing I'm certain, if I don't pull it together, I won't exactly be the picture of sex appeal. I step back and straighten my shoulders, offering my hand and pitching my voice low. "Shall we go upstairs?"

Her brown eyes deepen and she says, "yes," placing her hand in mine.

We walk upstairs to our bedroom together, and Bella goes to the far corner. Before removing her coat, she takes off her shoes. I notice that I'm doing the same, shoes before sport coat.

I brush my hand over the ring in my coat pocket once more, wondering if I've worn a noticeable hole.

We stand in opposite corners of the room, looking down at one another's bare feet.

"Um… take your coat now?"

"Ahh, sure."

As I walk towards her, Bella removes her coat and hands it to me.

Turning away, I lay it on the bedroom chair, rake my fingers through my hair, and feel again for the ring, the folded sheet of paper, and plastic cap all stored in various pockets.

I take a deep breath and say a silent prayer, keeping my eyes on the chair. "Bella, I think we should talk about something before we do this."

"O-Okay," she says suspiciously.

"It's… I have a few things to say."

"Actually, I have a few things, too."

"Really?" I turn to her.

"Yes, and maybe I should go first."

"Okay, you first." _But what if she says something to negate my proposal? _"You know what, I'd like to go first." Fear paralyzes me. "No, you first. No, me. You."

There is a titter from both of us.

"How about you go, Edward?"

As I strive to gather myself, I realize I've forgotten something—my script. "Oh, shit," I whisper.

"What is it?"

"I forgot…" The book of poetry I planned to use is downstairs, but I don't think my legs are strong enough to carry me.

_Is this a bad sign? Should I not do this…? No, there is a mighty voice calling throughout my being—this must happen now. _

I look over to her standing in the corner, arms wrapped around her waist, as she watches me with sympathetic eyes. My fear evaporates. This woman protects me, reconnects me to beauty, and fights my demons like a warrior princess. It is she who is the white knight. I'm so grateful for her love. All I need to do is say a few words. It's only a promise.

I clear my throat and lick my dry lips. "I forgot something, but it doesn't matter." I walk to her and pray for eloquence. "Bella, I didn't even know what kind of man I wanted to be—could be—until I met you. And we have some great friends, don't we?"

"Yes." Her eyes widen with curiosity.

"And family. A great family."

She nods.

"And God. God is with both of us."

"Yes, God is with us."

"I know we sort of do things backwards… And I know everything is happening really fast. I know…" _Fuck, what am I saying? _"I… I just want to make a promise to you that I'm going to try to be the best man I can. I'm going to try to do the right things, be a grown up." She blanches. _Is it fear? _I don't know. "Whenever you're ready, I'll wait as long as you want…"

I drop to one knee in front of her and Bella leans against the wall, clutching her chest.

"I'd like to bring our friends and family to the house of God and make you my wife." I fumble for the black velvet box tucked inside my jacket pocket, and open it like I've seen in the movies. "Isabella Marie Swan, I want to spend eternity with you. Will you marry me?"

She stills and wears an expression I've never seen before.

"Oh, Mother Mary."

Bella turns and presses her palms and forehead to the wall, leaving me bereft.

There is a panicked, whispered prayer streaming from her lips. Her voice so low, I can barely hear her.

"It's… it's okay, Bella. It's just a promise. You don't have to say…"

I drop the ring on the floor and reach up to her hips, feeling her tremble and, for once, instead of talking I listen.

"So noble… you're so noble. I knew you would do this… You d-d-don't have to do this… He told you. How could he tell you…?"

"Bella, who told me? Who told me what?"

"Eleazar… He told you."

Her fragile heart on the edge of shattering, she teeters on the precipice. I have not seen her like this in months, and my proposal is no longer my concern. Gently, I try to turn her hips.

"Turn around, love. Look at me… You have to tell me what's happening."

I hold her hips as she turns and drops her eyes to mine. They shift from distressed, to curious, to enlightened.

"Oh, God," she says holding my face in both of her hands.

"Who told me what, Bella?" I hear my own panic rising.

"You really don't know, do you?"

"Know what…? Please, please Bella… It will be alright."

Her eyes rest on the place between my hands. My gaze follows hers, and I finally see. Slowly moving my hand across the fabric of her dress, I feel the small, solid swell of her abdomen in front of me.

Her hand covers mine.

My mouth is arid.

"I'm pregnant."

"Preg…"

And now it is my turn. I sink into quicksand, sucking me through the Earth.

_Pregnant_.

The meaningless word echoes as the sand reaches my waist, my chest...

_Pregnant._

Boneless, my knee drops and I fall back on my heels.

"Baby," I manage to say. It's another meaningless word.

"Yes. A baby," she repeats back.

"Our baby."

"Our baby."

She places her hand under my chin and lifts my face to look at her. Her warm brown eyes pull me up.

_God gave us a baby. _

"There's a b-b-baby in here?"

"Yes, right in here," she murmurs.

"Our baby's in here…"

The words absorb meaning and I begin to blink rapidly, fighting the black that is creeping into my vision.

I sway.

"Whoa. Edward, stay right here. I'm going to get you some water."

_God gave us a baby. Bella is pregnant and I'm acting like a pussy. God, why am I such a pussy? _

She returns and offers me a glass. My hand shakes so badly, water splashes on my jacket. Kneeling in front of me, she steadies the glass, bringing to my lips.

"Just small sips, love."

The cool water fights away the darkness, and then I realize... "Oh, shit, Bella. You're the pregnant one, I should be getting you water. Here, drink this." Clumsily, I hand her the glass.

Her voice is calm. "Edward, let's make a deal. How about I get you water when you need it, and you get me water when I need it? And right now, you need it."

"Right." I finish the glass and she takes it for me, placing it on the bedside table. "We should put that in our wedding vows… Oh, the wedding. Do you want to marry me, Bella?"

She smiles and tilts her head. "Yes, Edward Anthony Masen, my Edward, I want to marry you. I've never wanted anything more in my life, and I can 't image I ever will."

We sit, knee to knee, breathing heavily, and gazing at each other.

"You're pregnant?"

She nods quickly. "Yes. I'm pregnant."

"And our baby's in there?"

"Right here." Bella holds her belly in a way that confirms there is a something precious inside.

"Can I see?"

"Mmm-hmm."

From my kneeling position, I hold her hand as she stands. Together we lift the hem of her dress over her thighs and hips. Gathering the fabric in her arms, she reveals her stomach to me.

_Oh, wow. _ Black cotton underwear stretches across a little bump between her hipbones, like a small potbelly. A million questions come to me, each fighting to be first. "When are you… When did you… How long… How big is the baby?"

"About…" Bella looks at me through a two-inch opening of her thumb and forefinger. "That big."

"How old is our baby?"

"Eleven weeks."

_Oh, wow. _"You mean—you're almost done your first semester?"

"Trimester."

"Right, I knew that." I dig my hands in my hair. _Fuck, I have so much reading to catch up on. _

"Love," Bella gently pulls at my arm. "Why don't we get you into bed."

"Right, bed is good. You, _you_ should get into bed. You're pregnant. You're pregnant?"

"Yes, I'm pregnant," she says with a smile, while steadying my stagger.

I sit on the edge of the bed, and reach out my arms, encouraging her to stand between my legs."Did I… Did I do something wrong to make you pregnant?"

Condoms. CONDOMS_. CONDOMS! _

For a nano-second, I think about apologizing, but instinct tells me not to.

"Wrong? No. You did nothing wrong. I was on the pill, but since my eating and sleeping were off, it made my birth control less effective." She looks apologetic, and watches for my reaction. "That's what my OB-GYN said."

"You have an OG-BYN?" _Did I say that right?_

"Mmm-hmm."

"Can I go with you, the next time you go?"

"Yes. I'd like that."

"Do you… Are we… Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Don't know."

"What's the baby's name?"

I hold onto her hips as she laughs and twists a lock of my hair between her fingers.

"Those are things we should decide together, don't you think?"

"Yes, I do." _So much responsibility._

I take a deep breath and Bella cradles my head, resting it on her chest.

We stay in this silence for a long time, and my jumbled mind begins to calm in the comfort of her love.

"I know you're scared," she whispers and kisses the top of my head.

_It's not about me. _

"Come, lie down with me." I take off my jacket and lay it over her coat. Together we crawl into bed, and her head takes its spot in the crook of my neck.

"Are you terrified?" I ask.

"Not anymore. I've had more time to get used to the idea."

I place a kiss on the top of her head, and stroke her smooth hair. "How long have you known?"

"More than a month, unofficially. I took a pregnancy test on Christmas Eve that confirmed it."

Pulling her in, I'm barely able to imagine what she went through.

"See, I told you. You already gave me a Christmas present." She peers up at me, trying for a smile.

"Who have you told? Does everyone know? Charlie?"

"No. No one."

"Not even Alice?"

"I thought the daddy should be the first to know."

I close my eyes at the sound of the word. _Daddy. Father. Pop. Poppa. Dad. Is this really happening?  
_

Bella rests her head back down and plays with the few chest hairs springing out from my white oxford. "Well, that's not completely true. I told my therapist, and your therapist."

"Oh, right. You told Dr Eleazar?"

"Yes. That's the only reason I wanted to talk to him alone. I wasn't sure if I had waited long enough—you're already going through so much, Edward. I don't want this to crush you."

"It's not. It's not crushing me." God protected her. While I was healing, while she stoically concealed this news, God protected her. _Thank you._ "What did Dr Eleazar say?"

"Congratulations."

"Sounds like him."

"And you can reach him on his cell if you need to talk." She looks up again through thick lashes, her brown eyes inspecting me. "Do you want to talk to him?"

"No." I shift down on the pillow so we are face to face. "I want to talk to you." Carefully, I pull a lock of hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. "Tell me everything."

And she does. With the detail of a novelist, Bella gets to tell her story to me for the first time. The unique bouts of nausea, weight gain, and 'sensing the baby' made her suspicious. She indulges me with answers to my every question.

"You sensed our baby? It moves? Does it kick?"

"Not really kick yet, too small." _I knew that._ "But I sensed it, almost like the baby's spirit touched mine. I felt it in my heart, not my womb. That's when I knew. That's when I bought the test."

Bella continues to talk as I caress her stomach and our baby with my fingertips. I learn that Charlie was knocking on the bathroom door as Bella stared at two blue lines on a home pregnancy test. I find out that she drove straight to my condo when she returned from Forks after Christmas.

_I've been such an ass. _

"Bella, what were you going to do if I didn't come to my senses?"

She shrugs, looking nonchalant. "I had faith. We don't need to worry about it now."

"Faith? That's it?"

"I'm a woman of faith, but I'm no fool. I had a backup plan."

"Yes…?"

"You really want to know?"

"Definitely."

"I um… thought about moving to Forks, at least at first. But then I figured I could stay in Seattle, it would be easier for shared custody, you know, if you wanted that… Anyway, I'd get my job back at Newton's. Get a little apartment, day care… I wouldn't need much."

It is the saddest thing I've ever envisioned. I squeeze my eyes shut and cover my face with my hand.

"Hey, Edward, it's okay. I'd still take great care of our baby. There are lots of wonderful single parents. I have Charlie as a role model for that, and even if you didn't want to be with me, I knew you'd never let your child go hungry, he or she'd be provided for…"

"Okay, you're right. I don't want to know." I try to obliterate the image: an exhausted Bella, picking up our child after ten hours at work, managing to put together some sort of dinner—sacrificing herself for the baby—falling asleep while reading a bedtime story, just to start it all over again the next day.

"Hey…" Rising to her elbows, she pulls my hand away from my face, and looks down at me. "It was just a back up plan… Faith, remember? I knew none of that would ever happen."

I try to swallow the question in my throat, but it burns like acid to be released. "Bella, be honest with me… did you ever… did you ever consider not being pregnant anymore?"

Her brows shoot up. "Hi, I'm Bella Swan, clearly we haven't met." Her sarcastic tone is the alkaline to my acid. "Never. Never, ever, ever." She presses my hand back to her stomach. "This is you, a part of you, and me. That wouldn't be my choice."

"You told me you and Jacob disagreed on something important."

"Yes." Bella strokes her finger down my cheek. "Didn't take you long to figure it out."

"What did he say?"

"The baby would destroy me."

I splay my hand over the swell, wanting to protect them both. "What did you say?"

"Nothing. I got my purse, walked out and never spoke to him again."

I can do nothing but blink at her.

"He wasn't going to let it go, I saw it in his eyes. I had no interest in having that argument with him or anyone else."

Her stomach rumbles, making a quiet gurgle.

"Holy shit. Was that our baby?"

"No, that was just my stomach growling. I'm sort of hungry again."

"Really?"

"Yes. I am hungry all the time."

"What else are you?"

"Well, hungry, but I get filled up quickly. I was nauseous a lot, but that's passing. Let's see…. I get tired easily…"

_I cannot believe I've missed this. _

"No more nightmares?"

"Well, different. A lot of strange dreams." She rubs my arms, her eyes darkening. "And I think about hanky-panky with you all the time."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

Bella moves her hand to my jaw and pulls me in for a kiss. I yield to her soft lips for only a moment before pulling away. "You should eat first."

"We could eat later." Stretching her neck, she reaches my lips again. We are interrupted with a thunderous stomach growl that morphs our kiss into smiles.

"Food," I command, rolling out of the bed.

Bella falls back, splaying her arms open, shaking her head and laughing.

"I just went shopping." I rise to the balls of my feet and rub my hands together. "I want to make you something."

"Okay." She scoots up in bed and beams with a youthful grin. "I'll put on pjs."

I head for the steps, but she stops me. "Oh, no eggs, please."

_So much for the omelet. _

Scrunching her nose, she says, "Lately they just make me a little… the smell of them…"

"No problem. I have something else in mind."

I rush downstairs and start preparing the first, but not the last, snack I make for my wife and baby.

_Holy Fuck._

I thread my fingers in my hair and pull, hard. _Wife and baby._ Walking in circles, I fight against the all-consuming fear. _Wife and baby, wife and baby… husband, wife, baby... family. _

_Please, please, please, God, help me hold it together. _

Please.

Huh.

For a moment, it feels like I float out of my body and watch from a distance this man in the kitchen. It is as if I am my own father. _Please?_ Your prayers have been answered, Edward. On a silver platter, everything you have ever wanted has been placed in front of you. A family. A bubble of love—with all of the challenges and rewards that institution implies. _Be a man. A husband. A father._

It's occurring to me that life is a series of choices, some external, like which career path to take. Some are internal, like the choice between fear and happiness. I choose happiness.

For the second time tonight, I kneel. This time it is to thank my heavenly fathers for the wisdom to choose happiness, the leaf that sprouts from the tree of love. I thank my parents for planting that tree, and all those in my life who have helped it to grow.

I go into my office and pick up the book of poetry. Instead of bringing it upstairs, I decide to put it on the shelf for another day. Our love is beyond what mere poets can describe.

Moments later, I walk up the steps, trying not to splash milk.

When I reach the top, I see Bella wearing one of my v-neck t-shirts and a pair of my boxers, nestled up in bed.

"You brought me cereal?" she asks with the same astonishment in her voice she had the first time I brought her a bowl in the hotel. It was three months ago. It was a lifetime ago.

"I brought you cereal."

Bella's smile reminds me that the smallest gestures bring about her greatest happiness. Then she tosses her head back, and pumps her arms in the air with each word, "Best husband ever!"

I place the bowls on the bedside table and try to allow myself to bathe in her praise.

"Oh, there's my favorite smile," she says. "My, how I've missed that smile."

Under her watchful stare, I begin to change into a t-shirt and flannel pajama pants.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. "I'm sort of… I'm still really skinny."

"You're pretty. Always." She pats a place on the bed in front of her. "Come."

"Oh, wait. The ring." I go to search for the place I dropped it on the floor.

"Too late." Bella waves her fingers, showing me the ring.

Quickly, I climb into bed and together we sit cross-legged. "Let me see." I hold her delicate hand in mine, then pull the ring off of her and slide it back on. And I do it again.

"The setting, the ring… it's beautiful, Edward."

"It's a replica of my mom's. I was a stupid kid and I insisted she be buried with her ring. I guess I wasn't thinking. Who knew I'd ever find you." Bella strokes my face with the back of her hand. "So, anyway, I had this designed from a picture."

"I'm honored to wear it."

"She'd like that you're wearing it. So would my father."

I hand Bella a bowl of Captain Crunch, and we both dig in.

"Captain Crunch should be part of our wedding vows," she says.

"Agreed."

"Have you figured out when we conceived?"

"Happy Halloween?" she sings, looking young and pretty.

"You mean, when we went to the roof and there was spanking and rulers… and…" I'm starting to feel sick. "You mean we have a bondage baby?"

"No, no. Remember, we didn't have sex on the roof. We have a car sex baby."

"When you were on top and made me say the F- word?"

"Uh-huh."

"Wow. I shouldn't be surprised we made a baby that night. A car sex baby, huh."

I dig back into my cereal, and as we sit eating in silence, I am compelled to share something I have yet to tell anyone. She is my wife, after all—or will be. "Bella, when I was in the alley, I think, it felt like my parents were with me."

"I'm sure they were."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm-hmm. I asked them to keep you safe for us." She takes another bite of cereal, seeming unfazed, but I'm stunned.

"You talk to my parents?"

"Sure, all the time. I introduced myself the night you told me they had passed away."

When Bella notices my expression, she places down her bowl.

"When I didn't see you in the alley, I asked them to be with you, protect you until I found you."

"They did. They kept me alive, Bella. And I think this is why. I cheated death twice. And you could have died in that car accident, but you didn't. And now this."

"And now this."

I put down my bowl of cereal. "My parents really like you."

"They do?"

"Yes. My father said that you're strong like my mother."

Smiling, she nods and looks away. "That's great."

"And you are. I'm learning everyday how strong you are." I reach her chin and turn her head towards me.

"Eh, you met me during a rough time. I'm a little better now."

Her face betrays her words. Her lip begins to tremble and she pulls away, pretending to smooth the sheets.

"What is it, Bella?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to thank you. You took the news really well."

"I did?" I thought I lost my shit.

"Yes, you did. It could have been pretty bad."

"Bella?" I turn her face to me. Her expression contorts, battling imminent tears. "Bella? Love?"

"It's nothing. Hormones."

"Have I mentioned how happy I am about our baby?"

"Yeah?"

"So happy. This is the best night of my life."

A single sob escapes her lips. I wrap my arms around her shoulders and pull her into my chest.

She lets go, really lets go, and sobs, "Happy, happy tears. I swear." I lay Bella back into bed with me, and rock her tenderly. "I'm relieved, that's all."

"You must have felt so alone."

"I shouldn't have. I have God," she stutters between tears.

"I know, but sometimes we forget. We still feel alone."

"It's all good now."

She clutches my t-shirt and we press our bodies together, our baby tucked in the warmth between us. "Cry it out, Bella. I'm here now. Completely here."

"I love you, Edward."

"I love you." I lift her chin and wipe her tears with my thumb. "You take care of me. I'll take care of you."

She nods and tucks her head back into my chest.

I stroke her back and, after a few minutes, her tears begins to cease.

"I wish I had a handkerchief for you, I'm all out." I kiss her temple.

"I've always preferred your t-shirts."

With the hem of my t-shirt, I wipe the last of her tears. I take her chin between my thumb and fingers and kiss her soft lips.

"I have something for you. I meant to read it when I proposed." I get out of bed and grab my props from my jacket.

"It was a beautiful proposal. Sorry I freaked in the middle of it."

"You liked it?"

"Loved it."

I crawl back into bed and stretch out on my stomach, bringing my face to our baby. "Well, it's something I wrote the night we met. Do you want to hear it?"

"Please." Bella runs her hand through my hair.

I hand her the small plastic cap.

"What's this?" She's amused.

"Your first bottle of Pedialyte at the hospital. I kept it as a souvenir. I didn't think I'd see you again, but I really wanted to, so I made a plan." I unfold the paper and read:"One -When she leaves, give phone number for counsel and friendship. Two-If call, go to funeral. Three-If no call, give two weeks before calling (coffee date?)."

Bella giggles or sighs softly with each item on the list. I keep my head down, and continue, "Four-Build friendship for one year. Five-After one year, graduate seminary, start to woo, marry her. Six-Don't compete with Mike. Seven-NEVER EVER call when drunk. Eight-If she dates others-don't blow up-normal people need sex. She'll be yours in the end."

"Ah, the best laid plans."

I laugh and drop my head to her stomach. She hums and continues to play with my hair. Bella will be a great mother. I press my lips to her stomach—my wife, my baby.

_Mine in the end. _

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

Oh, how I have waited to write that scene.

I promise a lemon next time. Congrats to those of you who guessed this back when Edward and Alice went Christmas shopping and Alice suspected Bella was sick again. No, you weren't at all crazy for the guess.

Should they pull the trigger and get married right away, or wait it out?

Warm regards,

Liz x


	40. Simple, Soon

Hello All,

Thank you for reading! We are almost at the end.

Huge, huge, huge thanks to Orangeappeal and TessUnderground for their mad pre-reading/betaing skills. They made this chapter much better.

Thanks to xoEmc for the design advice.

Reminder: In the last chapter, they fell asleep talking.

* * *

.

.

Chapter Forty  
Simple, Soon

.

.

The sensation of feather-light kisses across my ribs pulls me from sleep.

I blink open my eyes and silently watch Bella on her knees next to me. She lifts my t-shirt and examines my healing ribs. Gently, she glides her fingertips along each one and dips her head, placing another kiss, so soft it almost tickles.

Not wanting to disturb her, I keep still as she inches her way down and brushes her lips across the line of hair that leads to the waistband of my pajamas. It sends a jolt to my groin and my cock comes alive.

At he sound of birds singing, Bella snaps her head toward the window. The early morning sun lightens her brown eyes as she stares outside. She glances at me, and smiles bashfully.

"You're awake."

I nod and grin at her blush. "Morning." My voice is still gruff.

She cocks her head to the window. "We have company. Song Sparrows in the Maple outside."

"You know birds?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Love that." I rub my hand over her leg. "Come here."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay down here?" A wicked grin emerges on her face.

"I'm sure. That's not what I had in mind."

Bella straddles me and hovers just inches above. I hold her face in my hands.

"Sorry I fell asleep on you last night," she says.

"You need your sleep."

I pull her face to mine and kiss her. The smooth, sweet mint tasting lips melt over mine. Her tongue slips into my mouth and our kiss becomes a tender dance, twisting and turning, vibrating with her hum. My skin awakens with anticipation.

Bella moves her hips into me, sliding over my lower torso. I skate my hands around her thighs and reach her backside.

She pulls her face away. "I can't wait a second longer. I want you."

"Then take me." _Please take me._

We remove my pants and she climbs back on top of me. I reach under the hem of her t-shirt, looking for her underwear and realize they're already gone.

"Oh, Bella."

I sit up and wrap one arm around her waist, the other hooked around her thigh. She lifts up and firmly holds my erection, gliding my sensitive tip over her sex while stroking me. I twitch in her hand and I moan involuntarily. Filled with need, I want to thrust up inside of her, submerge myself, but I don't. It is even more gratifying to follow her lead.

Bella clutches my shoulder with one hand and slowly lowers herself.

_Yes._

Her hips stay raised above my pelvis, she only encompasses a small part of me, but it feels so good to be back where I belong. As we hold each other tight, I feel the new weight of her breasts against me. My breath quickens. With each inhale, my nipples brush through my t-shirt, against her, hardening, and sending chills down to my stomach.

She kisses my ear. "I need to go slowly."

"Does it hurt?"

"No. Just getting used to you again." She presses down further, and I feel her heart pounding through to my hand on her back. With each passing second, I feel her open, stretching around me.

"I want all of you," she murmurs, brushing her cheek against mine.

"I'm yours, all yours."

I cup her face in my hand and watch her as she presses down. Her mouth drops open and her body swallows me, our flesh meeting. _Mine forever._

Bella lets out a soft, shuddering sigh and drops her head to my shoulder.

I gather her hair and pull it to one side, exposing the long muscle from neck to shoulder for me to kiss. Our voices are little more than breath. "Oh, I've missed you, Bella. I've missed this."

"Me, too." She lifts her hips and glides back down. And again.

Bella reaches behind me, and grabs at my t-shirt. Quickly, I pull it over my head and do the same with hers, watching her hair fall around her shoulders. I fling the shirts to the floor, and dig my hands into her thick locks.

I love the feeling of our flesh touching. Our lovemaking is slow, tender as we use our fingertips and lips to relearn each other's bodies. I am humbled by the knowledge that it is only I who will ever taste this mouth, touch this skin in this intimate way, just as only Bella will ever know me. And somehow it becomes clear that Bella always knew this about us, it just took me a little more time to understand. We have a lifetime to explore.

I hold her hips and she continues to rise and fall on me. She is so wet, that her movements are easy. The curls of her hair, her breasts, everything bounces as she moves.

"It feels so good, Edward. Does it feel good?"

"Yes, baby."

_Baby _

Bella's body begins to shake, so close to release. Fingernails press into my back and small cries fill my ears. In a swift move, Bella shifts and plants her feet on the mattress. Her knees are around my fragile ribs, but everything else feel so damn good, I don't care.

She is pounding into me at a new angle, back and forth, hard and fast. So aggressive—so hot. The sound of our wet flesh and the force of her movement, Bella claiming me in this way, all nearly send me over. The pressure inside intensifies, and I begin to throb but I wait and simply hold her as she climaxes, grunting my name into my neck with each wave of release.

"Wow, beautiful." It's all I can say. She catches her breath. I rest her back with me. I'm careful to keep my place inside as I shift on top of her.

I rock into her and she gives me a small nod of approval.

"I want to look at you." I hold her pelvis to mine as I lift to my knees and rake my eyes over the new, soft curves of Bella.

She watches me watching her.

"There's more of me."

"The more the merrier." I cup her breasts, lifting them together, and feel the supple flesh spill from my fingers. "So pretty."

She strokes my forearms.

_Her body is changing for the baby._

Her pink nipples harden under my thumbs as I tenderly tease them.

"Do they feel different?"

"Sensitive."

I stop my movements and Bella places her hands over mine.

"But they don't hurt. It feels good. It all feels really good."

Lifting her hips, Bella encourages me to continue moving inside of her. The pink flush of her thighs spreads and I watch myself disappear inside of her over and over again. She watches, too.

"Oh, God… Edward."

"You're close again."

"Mmmm."

She writhes and meets my hips, taking over. I spread my hand on her swollen belly and make fast circles with my thumb over her clitoris.

_Swollen belly. _

Her eyes squeeze shut and she bucks wildly, making sounds I've never heard, throughout her orgasm.

Bella opens her eyes and I fix on the sweat-soaked tendril of hair clinging to her neck. Suddenly, I can think of nothing else but holding her hand while she delivers our baby.

My climax recedes.

Bella stretches out her arms. "I want to feel you on top of me."

I lie down over her, barely supporting myself on my forearms.

"Are you holding back?" Her voice is careful.

"I'm not meaning to."

"It's okay."

"I think I need to stop… I don't think I can…"

"We can stop." She brushes her fingers through the short hair on the side of my head. "Do you want to stay in me for a minute, just like this."

I nod, feeling self-conscious. "I do."

Bella pulls my head down to her lips and kisses my forehead. "You're thinking too much."

I nod. After Bella fell asleep, a million questions came to mind: _Where to be married? When? Where would we live? Law school for her? Seminary for me? _Those questions are still with me. I'm out of the moment.

"We'll figure out a lot of things together today. Everything will work out." _She knows me so well._

"Okay."

She lifts her hips up, and begins a slow gyration. I feel my erection harden again.

"And you know, Edward, there are only two of us here right now, you and me."

I shake my head. "The baby."

"Oh, no. The baby is sleeping,"

"Yeah?"

Her movements become stronger. I thicken.

"Mmm-hmmm. We have a very sound sleeper. We can make noise and everything."

"I like to hear you make noise."

"You've made me come twice already—_stud_."

We both chuckle; she gives me the levity I need.

"Should we go for three, Isabella? I want to come with you."

"Oh, I like that confidence." Her voice is a husky whisper.

And now, I take the lead. I plant my hands far above her and pull my entire body over hers. This is what I like best, making love to her with my whole body.

I dip my head and suck her nipple into mouth. Bella arches her back, giving herself, and I take what's offered.

"Oh, _gaugh_, that's good."

I move to her other breast and lift my pelvis higher, diving deeper with each swift thrust. Bella works her full body. Her pelvis meets mine over and over again.

I angle my hips low when I pull back, and find the spot that makes her cry. "Oh. Oh. Oh, Edward. Yes, like that. Please." I hit the spot again and again.

A sweat breaks out over my body, and the pressure in my cock soars. I'm hard and long and tingling with sensation.

"Too rough?"

"No, don't stop." She's emphatic.

Bella wraps her legs around me. We meld into one creature, moving the bed with each deep thrust. I shove my fingers into her mouth and fist the pillow with my other hand.

Bella closes her lips around me and sucks, the whole time making muffled sounds. When I feel her teeth, my balls harden. My legs stiffen.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." It feels so good, it hurts. When I come, I know I'll fill her.

Bella clamps around me and I let go. I crash my pelvis into her and come hot and long, pouring everything I have inside of Bella.

I collapse on top of her and quickly roll us onto our sides.

I slide myself up and down her body, giving small kisses everywhere my lips can find. After a moment, I look at her. If she weren't already pregnant, she would be now.

"Amazing," she says.

"Thanks for talking me through it."

"Anytime."

I brush her hair from her face, trail my fingers along her jaw, and lift her chin, giving a grateful kiss.

She pulls her knees up and curls into a ball. The damp sheets cool immediately. We've made a milky, wet mess together and somewhere deep inside, it makes me a little proud.

"I want to take a shower with you. Let me wash you."

"Mmmm." Bella closes her eyes. "In a minute."

Exhaustion pulls her under.

I slip out of bed, and head to the bathroom. I return with a warm washcloth and tend to her while she sleeps.

When I finish, I hear her mumble, "Best husband ever."

~o~

I strike another item off my things to do list. I am a shark, focused, never stopping. I will complete this list today.

Order books  
Book trip  
Call architect  
Purchase property  
Madrona house  
Nursery furniture  
Pregnancy clothes  
Seminary?  
Cancel smutty magazine subscriptions  
Tell Bella I love her

Though I don't need a reminder for the last item, I like writing it.

I look over to my bookshelf hiding men's magazines and wonder what Bella and I will hide in there when we have our child—or children. _How many will there be? How many does she want? _

The clean soapy fragrance reaches me before the words. "Here you are." Bella comes into my office and wraps her arms around my shoulders. She kisses my neck and glances at my things to do list.

"How did you sleep?"

"Very well, thank you. Did you come back to bed?"

"Nah. I thought I'd get an early start-a little prayer, a little work. Are you hungry? I can make you…"

"I'll make breakfast in a bit. Pancakes?"

"Love pancakes, but I don't have any." _I should put that on the list._

"You have everything. I just looked."

"I have mix?"

"No, but I can make them from scratch."_ From scratch. _I feel a little thrill each time she says that. "What's on our things to do list?"

"Here, I want to show you something." I open the window on my computer with the Amazon shopping cart filled with pregnancy and parenting books.

"Wow, that's a lot of books."

"Anything you want to add?"

"Love, I don't think there is anything _to_ add." She smirks down at me. "And I have some of these already."

"It's good to have multiples." I strike a couple of keys to confirm the order.

Bella begins to knead my shoulders and neck. "You're tense."

"I'm good." She deepens her stroke, and I have to admit, it does feel good. I drop my head and let out a long exhale as she uses her thumbs to go in deeper.

"There you go." My head lolls to the side as she goes even further. "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"You are doing great with the news. I was wondering how Teddy was feeling."

_Good question, one I spent the morning praying about. _

I grab her hands and kiss each palm. "Come here." I swivel my chair around and Bella sits on my lap. She is fresh out of the shower with her hair in a damp ponytail, and wearing jeans and one of my U-Dub sweatshirts. Simple. Beautiful. Bella.

"Teddy is excited about having a little brother or sister to play with."

I hold her legs and swivel the chair back and forth in a slow rhythm.

"Mmmm. That's good. He'll be a great playmate… He's just excited? Anything else?"

"Well, you know he has his issues," I tease, hoping I can say this right.

"I do. But I won't tell him you told me." She plays along.

"He hopes, you know, he'll still be important." My voice is quiet, but I meet her eyes. "I'll still be important."

Angling her head, she looks at me for a long moment. "I understand that. I've thought a lot about that myself."

My heart shrinks a little, but I try to avoid selfishness. "I know, the baby is your priority…"

"No, not that. I mean, I've thought about what this little one will mean for me." I place my hand on her belly. "Maybe this will be daddy's little girl, or daddy's best buddy… whoever it is, this baby will steal your heart, maybe steal it away from me."

"That could never be, Bella. You are my everything. I already have so much love for our baby, and for our family… but you, you are my best friend, my lover, my partner…" At my realization, my voice fades. It is one of her voodoo mind tricks. "Bella, you aren't really worried about being important, are you?"

She wrinkles her nose. "No, not really."

"Well played. I see your point. I guess I'm being foolish."

"No," she whispers. "Not foolish, honest." She holds her hand against my cheek. Her eyes scan every inch of my face, as if I'm not even here. She's in some sort of trance. Brushing her thumb across my bottom lip, her eyes focus on my mouth.

"Bella? Are you okay?"

She slowly nods, bemused.

"When you were brought into the hospital, they tried to prepare me for the worst. I didn't believe them." Her eyes follow her fingertips as they move to my forehead, pushing my hair away. "I couldn't believe I wouldn't see this face again, these green eyes. Touch you. It was a pain too great to comprehend."

It's something she's never told me. "You were strong at the hospital."

"I tried."

"I cried so much, and I don't think you cried once."

"Not in front of you." She places her hand on my chest. "You cried because this huge heart of yours opened up. It's healing, and I'll protect it with my life." A strange smile crosses her face. "You didn't need to be worried about me."

"I like worrying about you."

"I know." Her eyes fill with remorse. "Oh, I've made a lot of mistakes."

"What do you mean?"

"I've always tried so hard to _show_ you how much I love you, how I could be strong and worthy of you, but…" Bella shakes her head.

"You do. You show me all the time… What you did for me, my parents," I begin to argue, but she places her fingertips over my lips.

"Maybe I don't say it enough, or well enough. Edward, I go to bed each night and wake each morning thanking God for you. You live inside my heart and I don't think a person could love another person more than I love you. You are my sun, my moon, my stars… my air, my water… you're my Edward."

It takes my breath away. _She loves me that much? _ My eyes burn, so close to tears, yet again.

"I still can't believe you're going to be my wife."

"Your wife."

I grasp her chin and turn my head, taking a moment to inhale her breath before I kiss her soft lips. "Can you fly?" I ask against her mouth.

She smiles and kisses me again. "You mean like Superman fly?"

"No like… Wonder Woman. On a plane?"

She tips her forehead to mine. "Oh, right, because I'm pregnant. I think I can for a while still."

"Look here." I open the browser window on my computer. "There's a flight to Vegas tonight at 6:30. We can be married by midnight."

"Midnight?"

I look at her eyes glaze over. _Too soon?_

"Um… last night we said sooner rather than later, and maybe this is too soon… I just thought we could throw on some jeans… you know…" She's still glazed, staring at the screen. "I'm sure you don't want a big wedding, given last time and everything…"

"Yeah, right," she murmurs.

"Or we can wait. We can wait as long as you want. Whatever you want, Bella."

"Edward, what do you want?"

"Whatever you want."

Bella looks at me with those deep brown eyes and slowly repeats, "Edward, what do _you_ want?"

I can't fib to this woman, God has taught me that. "Well, I'm open to a lot of things."

"Remember what you said last night?"

"Yeah, I do… I'd like to bring our friends and family together, take you to God's house and make you my wife."

"I'd like that too. What else?"

"I'd like Carlisle to perform the ceremony."

"Me too."

"Maybe Reverend Weber can do it with him. I'd like that."

"Me too."

"I'd like to dress up for you and look special. I want it all to be special."

"Me too. Let's not go to Vegas tonight."

"No. Let's not." I think about Bella again the day I met her—that blood-spattered dress, a man's coat, that sad little purse. "You're sure you don't mind having a real wedding?"

"I'm sure." I looked in her purse the next morning—nothing but a rosary, the St. Francis of Assisi's prayer card, and a five-dollar bill.

_Oh, Lord you are good. Thank you for speaking to me so clearly. _

"Assisi." My voice doesn't waiver—it's what I want. Confused, Bella furrows her brow.

"Assisi. I want to take you to Assisi and make you my wife. My partner."

"Assisi?" It's a whisper of disbelief.

"Yes. I want to take you to that sacred place. It's who you are-it's why I fell in love with you."

Inspiration hits me, a chance to replay last night. I place Bella on her feet as I get up out of the chair. I take her hand and walk her to the center of the room. Bella wears a confused but glorious smile that lights up the room as I go to one knee, holding her hand and feeling the platinum of the ring under my finger.

"Isabella Swan, I'd like to take you to Assisi and before friends, family, and God, promise to love you forever. Will you marry me, Bella?"

Tears spring to her eyes and she nods as her mouth finds it's way from smile to words. "Yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes."

Bella drops to her knees and I nearly crush her in my embrace. Our hearts press against each other—her happiness envelops me.

I hold her head to me and speak quickly in her ear, "Bella, it will be great. We'll make it simple and soon."

"Right, right… not too much stress."

"No stress."

I feel warm tears against my neck, and wipe my own tears away with the back of my hand.

"Baby, you're crying?" She asks.

"Nope, not crying. Just hormones."

She laughs as I wipe her tears with my t-shirt.

"Edward, will you please call me by my name?"

I'm a little lost. "Isabella?"

She shakes her head. "My new name."

_Oh._ "Ms… Swan-Masen?"

She shakes her head again. "Not that."

"Mrs… Ms. Masen?"

"Mrs. Edward Masen."

_It's music._

"You want my name?"

"I do. I never thought I'd want a name other than my father's, but that was before I met you. I want to be Mrs. Edward Masen."

"Mrs. Edward Masen."

If it were possible to die from happiness, I could go right now. And it would be a good death.

~0~

Two hours later, we are sitting across from Carlisle and Esme in their living room. By day's end, everyone will know. My hand, sweaty and soft, holds Bella's.

They all wait anxiously as I try again to say the words. "And you see, so we had a big night last night…" _Too many details._ "I mean, the night wasn't important. Or maybe it was. We went to the new Italian restaurant. You both like Italian." I think Carlisle's ready to send me back to the mental health wing. _God, please give me words._

Bella places her hand on my knee and pulls me away from my spiral into stupidity. Her eyes are calm and confident. "May I?"

I nod.

"Carlisle, Esme, Edward and I are getting married."

I focus on Carlisle. There is a flash of shock, before he springs from the couch with a hearty, "Congratulations."

In an instant, Bella and I are both in Esme's embrace and I feel a firm slap on my back from Carlisle. We end our hug and I put my hand on Carlisle's shoulder. Bella grabs Esme's hand and wraps her arm around my waist to brace me.

"And…" Bella says with shameless jubilance, "We've decided to start a family right away."

"Right away?" Carlisle says incredulously.

"Yes, as in, we're part way there," Bella says, still beaming. "You're going to be grandparents."

As if his legs were swept out from under, Carlisle plops down on a chair behind him.

"Bella," Esme sings, and takes Bella to her chest again. "You're going to be a mom." She sways Bella for a moment, then reaches for me. Back and forth, she kisses our faces over and over again.

Esme peers over to Carlisle, and nudges him with her foot. "Get up, Carlisle."

He snaps out of it and stands. "Congratulations." He looks pale and his voice is breathy.

Esme holds him by his shoulders and says with unshakable conviction. "We're going to be grandparents, Carlisle. It's wonderful news."

"Yes." He glances quickly at us, then focuses back on Esme. "It's great news." He's still dazed. Esme hugs him the same way Bella often hugs me. It's a clinch that says, "It will all be okay. Trust me."

We stay only a few minutes to share wedding plans. They need some time alone, and we have a busy day. They walk us to our car, and before I get in, Carlisle grabs me in a tight hug. It is a day of hugs, and I love it.

"Are you alright, Carlisle?" I keep my voice low.

"Me? I was worried about you."

I break the hug and look at his worried blue eyes. "Never been better. We'll talk this week?"

"Yes. Definitely."

As we pull away, Bella and I both let out a big exhale.

"Two down, three to go," she says.

I take a few turns before heading back onto the highway.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see." I pull up to the small, gray Craftsmen style house on the water.

"Oh. I love it. Who lives here?"

"No one, yet. I don't have the keys, but let's look in the window."

We get out of the car, and press our faces to porch windows.

"Do you like it?"

"Oh, yes. It's great. Modern, but still… look at the wood work, the hardwoods, it's historic at the same time."

She walks to the other set of windows and looks in. "Do you still like it?"

"Yes," she laughs.

"Okay. Good. Let's move in, temporarily, of course."

"What? You want to buy it?"

"I already did." Bella's face drops, then she looks back in the window. I quickly regroup. "I mean, I've owned it for a while. We own it. We own lots of things. It needed renovations, so we bought low and Esme's been overseeing everything… so we were going to put it on the market…"

"From what I can see that kitchen's nice."

"I'll get the keys tomorrow. But it will just be until the architect can come up with plans. I don't know, we might be able to break ground in a month or so."

"Architect? Break ground? You're losing me." Bella rubs her temples.

"I want to build you a house, Bella. Like the house we talked about, remember?"

"I do. A house right here in Madrona. With a great kitchen, just like this one… on the water, just like this one… Look Edward, there's enough space to get you a grand piano."

"No. My piano is perfect. I don't want another one. And, we can't stay in that condo… we need a house, but this one isn't perfect, and I want it to be perfect…" I start to babble and Bella just looks at me with a kind smile.

"I love this house."

"You do…? But, you made me pancakes from scratch this morning." I know I've lost her again.

"I can make them here, too."

"No, I mean, I want to make you a house from scratch… like pancakes or lasagna, but a house. Can I make you a house, Bella?"

"Dear Lord, I love you."

She puts her arms around me and presses her cheek to my chest.

"Edward, how important is timing to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think it would be wise to move in here and take house building slowly? Low stress, remember."

"Right." I think about it for a minute and Bella tips her head up to look at me. Really, it would be a huge relief to put the house building off for a while. "You're sure you like this house?"

"It could be a hovel. If you're in there, I'd love it… and this is far from a hovel."

"There is a good room for a nursery."

"Really?"

"Maybe we should wait." My muscles relax the moment I say it. "I'm going to build you a house some day."

"I know you will."

~0~

"Are you sure you want to do this alone?" I ask, pulling up to Alice's apartment building.

"Yes, some things a girl needs to tell her best friend in private. And this is definitely one of them."

"Alright. I'll talk to Jasper. Text me when it's safe to come get you."

"Good luck."

"You too."

~0~

"She's what?" Jasper springs off the couch, and I'm sorely missing Carlisle's attempts to hide his surprise. "What the fuck, Edward?"

"Jasper, relax. It's going to be fine." I try to calm him with my tone.

He paces in front of me, running his fingers through his hair. "Have you talked to Eleazar?"

"Not yet, but I have an appointment tomorrow."

"Jeez, Edward. This is the last thing either one of you needs."

"It's going to be fine."

He gives a dark laugh. "Yeah, easy for you to say."

"What do you mean? What going on?" _When did I become the therapist?_

"Well, I have to worry about you, and Bella, and now…" He waves his hand around, "All of the other stuff."

"What other stuff? The baby?"

"No, no…" He sighs and stops his pacing. "Alice. I have to worry about Alice."

"Bella is telling her now…"

"Damn it Edward, don't you get it? Alice is going to expect to get married now, too."

I start to laugh. I've never seen him unravel in this way.

"It's not funny."

"You two just met."

"Oh, really? We met less than three weeks after you met Bella. _And_, you were broken up for a month, so by my calculations, Alice and I have been seeing each other longer but you are getting married first."

_You are so in love, Jasper. _

"I think it's safe to say that Bella and I would not be getting married right now if it weren't for the baby."

"Yeah, well… I'm going to start wearing two condoms."

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Please."

I go into his kitchen and get Jasper a beer. When I return, he's sitting on the couch with his face buried in his hands. "Here you go."

My cell phone vibrates in my pocket, and I check the message:

Minor freak out here.  
How goes it there?  
-me x

Major freak out.

She's afraid Jasper  
will propose.

Story swap on  
the way to Forks?

You betcha. See you soon.  
-me x

I sit next to Jasper and give him some time to take a few slugs of beer.

"I'm sorry, Edward. Maybe I over reacted."

"No worries."

"How are you doing? Are you breaking down?"

I shrug. "Maybe I should be. Maybe I'm in shock. But really, I'm feeling good. You know, I get over eager sometimes, wanting everything done at once. But Bella, she pulls me back down. She calms me."

"That's good."

"I need your support on this, Jasper."

He nods, and wears a wry grin. "You aren't going to ask me to be your best man, or anything, are you?"

"I am, and Alice will be the Maid of Honor. I don't want to scare you, but a lot of people get engaged at weddings."

"Oh, for fuck's sake."

_Yes, this is going to be a lot of fun. _

~0~

The four of us reconvene around Alice's dining room table to talk wedding plans.

"You're asking a lot of me, you know." Alice lips purse in a thin line.

"No, we're not, Alice," I say. "We just want to put everyone on a plane, go to Italy, and have a little party. That's it."

"Find the perfect wedding dress in a few days?"

"Hey, whoa, " Bella jumps in. "Who said anything about the perfect wedding dress? The perfect anything? Really folks, we have to get that word out of our vocabulary."

Bella looks at me and I know we both thinking the same thing: Vegas would have been fine.

I give it a try. "Bella and I have a motto for this wedding, soon and simple, low stress."

"Of course we can help." Jasper leans in and puts his arm around Alice. "We'll do whatever you need. And we'll keep it low stress."

"Fine. Low stress," Alice says. "It's time I work on a new life skill."

Since we have to get on the road to Forks, Bella and I gather our things. As Jasper and Bella say good-bye, I pull Alice aside.

She's so petite, I need to I lean down to whisper. "You know it's really hard for me to ask people for help."

"I do. I do."

"But if this is going to be a problem, you need to let me know. I don't want you upset. I don't want Bella upset. It's not worth it."

"Edward, come here." She pulls me down into a hug. "I'm just a little freaked out. By the time you're back from Forks, the wedding will be fully planned."

"I think we're coming back tonight."

"I know, buddy."

I laugh. "I love you, Alice."

"Love you, too."

~0~

"Please close your eyes, Bella."

"No, I'm awake."

I glance at her again to watch her blink slowly. It's already dark and we're still an hour from Forks. Only yesterday I made this drive to ask permission to make a promise.

"Maybe we should have waited until tomorrow."

"True. But think about how good we'll feel in the morning." Her words stretch out into a yawn and I hear her cell phone ping. "Charlie again. He wants to know how far away." She returns his text.

"Do you think he's suspicious?"

"He's a smart man. He knows we aren't coming to tell him we're getting married."

We are relieved to see Sue's car in the driveway as we approach.

"This is it, the last one, Bella. How do you feel?"

"I'll feel a lot better in about twenty minutes."

Charlie walks out onto the porch. Although it is winter, he is only in a thin, white t-shirt. Until now, I had no idea how cut the guy was. He crosses his arms; his biceps bulge. He looks menacing.

_Dear Lord, Grant me honest words of peace. Please be with Bella and me as we share this news. Please give Charlie understanding. Guide him, oh Lord, guide us all. _

We get out of the car and Bella places her hand in mine. Charlie stands guard at the top of the steps, as if he is blocking the entrance.

"Good evening, Charlie."

"Hi, Dad."

"Hello." His voice is deep. Wisps of steam come from his breath.

The porch door swings, and Sue comes up behind him, wrapped in a shawl. "Hello Edward, Bella. It's cold out here, we should go in."

We murmur our greetings. Charlie doesn't budge.

"So, you have news that you couldn't tell me over the phone?"

"Not couldn't, we didn't want to. Thought it would be nice to tell you in person." Bella keeps a positive light voice, but the trace of fear is unmistakable to my ears.

I feel a tightening in my chest, and everything changes. So many times I prayed for this man's acceptance, but now he threatens the happiness of my love, my Bella. No one can hurt her like Charlie can, and I refuse to let him. I take a step up, and with my height, it brings us eye to eye.

My voice is firm. "Bella and I are getting married."

"You could have told me that over the phone." Sue puts her hand on his shoulder. "Are you pregnant, Bella?"

I squeeze her hand and she steps up to stand beside me. "Yes I am, Dad."

He looks everywhere, but at us as he shakes his head. He takes a step back then points to me. "I thought you were going to be some sort of minister or something."

It is as if we are teenagers. He is a wall of anger. I tell myself that it stems from fear, and draw on the lessons Bella has taught me. I snake my arm around her, but keep my eyes on Charlie.

"I am a man of God. And I know you are shocked. We're surprised, too, but Bella and I have chosen to see this as a blessing."

"A blessing," he mutters under his breath.

Sue comes off the step and tucks her arm under mine. "Let's give them a minute."

"No." I won't leave her alone with this much anger.

"Oh, I can't be alone with my own daughter now. Terrific."

Bella looks up and gives me a nod. It seems like I'm the only one who wants me here. After a moment, I step way, but hold her hand until our arms are outstretched and Sue pulls me away.

Sue walks me at a fast pace down the street.

"Give him a minute, they'll be fine."

"I'm not too sure about that." I turn and look at them. Bella is now on the porch.

"You need to give Charlie some credit."

"Credit? He's pissed. That is one angry man."

"He's not angry. He's losing his daughter. Charlie is sad; he just looks angry. You, on the other hand, should watch your temper."

"Me? What?"

"I know what you were trying to do, but remember, Bella has a good father. She knows how to handle him. If you try to come between them, you'll be sorry in the end."

Sue glances back to them. "You see that."

I turn around to see Charlie swallow Bella in a hug. He stretches up and lifts her off her feet. _Thank you, Jesus._

Sue and I stand there and watch in silence. Even from this distance, we can tell they are crying.

"They've been through so much together. He's dedicated his life to her. Don't ever shut him out, Edward."

"I won't."

I put my arm around Sue and give praise to God that she will be part of my life.

"Sue, do you like Italy?"

"Love Italy."

"You've been?"

"No. But I already know I love it."

"How do you think Charlie will like it?"

.

.

.

.

.

* * *

We have one chapter and an epi left. Guess what happens on the last chapter. LOL.

Gosh, I will miss these two. Jasper, well, he might pop up again somewhere. I don't think I'm done playing with him.

When I first conceived of this story, I was listening to a song that ended up being the true inspiration for these characterizations. I could not share the song until now, for the title alone is a spoiler. Most of the lyrics can be found in this story. Please consider watching a YouTube video of The Avett Brother's January Wedding. I'm to the point of tearing up with both nostalgia and joy for finally being able to share this song with you.

So very much love,

Liz x


End file.
